Timeline
by inthenightside
Summary: Masskink response to a prompt requesting Garrus and FemShep thrown back in time to the First Contact War on the way back through the Omega 4 relay. Warnings for time travel and kink. Ties in with "Applied Research" but can stand on its own.
1. Chapter 1

Original masskink prompt was:

"basically, for whatever reason, shit hits the fan and both garrus and shepard end up in the middle of the first contact war after going through the Omega 4 relay. Cue them trying to negotiate peace from each of their respective races. I would like them to be in an established relationship already, just to see how they'd handle their relationship in the face of such fear and mistrust the turians and humans had with each other.  
>Do they hide their relationship or use it to show how wrong each side is about each other?"<p>

and this is what it turned into...comments are highly appreciated.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Shepard came awake to the sound of gunfire and explosions, tasting dust in her mouth. Instinct took over as she rolled to her side, unclipping her assault rifle to face whatever new challenge would present itself. It took her a few moments to understand that the sounds of battle were a bit distant, and there was no immediate threat to respond to just yet.  
>She marked the direction the noise was coming from, just as it faded, identified the low hum of some sort of engine that was kicked into gear then moved away into another direction until if faded, too.<br>Whatever that had been, it hadn't been about her, but that didn't mean she could keep just lying there. However much she'd have liked to continue doing this at the moment.

A groan and a familiar shade of blue in her peripheral vision let her know that Garrus was present and presumably in about the same state.  
>"What the hell?" came his voice, sounding just as disoriented as she felt.<p>

She could echo that sentiment. The last thing she could remember was clinging to the door frame of the Normandy's cockpit as they raced for the Omega 4 relay, the damaged ship shaking and bucking like a hurt, living creature as the Collector station behind them blew into pieces, EDI giving damage reports that no one save the AI itself was interested in hearing about at that point. And there had been something about an anomaly, but given the circumstances she hadn't paid much attention.  
>If she was completely honest she hadn't thought they'd make it.<p>

This, however, wasn't the Normandy.  
>They were planetside, by the looks of it in some moderate natural setting, dirt ground beneath them, large specimens of local vegetation obscuring the view towards where Shepard assumed the fighting had happened just minutes ago. Their surroundings looked rather undisturbed by civilisation.<br>The sky overhead was a disturbingly normal and serene blue, and, for the moment at least, clear of any aircraft and therefore threat to them.

With some effort, she climbed to her feet, trying to do so quickly before her body caught on to it and responded with more than the general soreness and exhaustion that she already felt. Garrus did the same, moving just as stiffly, and she gave him a quick look.  
>"You all right?"<p>

He snorted. "Let's settle for not significantly worse off than when we got to the Normandy. Now, where the hell are we, and how did we get here?"

"Let's find out." Shepard fired up her omnitool. It should at least be able to patch into the normal communication feed that was a standard across the known galaxy, a permanent data stream for providing at least basic information as time, location and rudimentary navigation.  
>She came up blank, which was unusual, because usually even the smallest, most backwater colony had something of the sort, and was about to complain about it when Garrus suddenly snarled in alarm and reached over, turning her omnitool off.<p>

She was about to at least make a sharp remark about that when he proffered his own lit omnitool, showing her location and date, and her protest died on her tongue.  
>"Shanxi? But that's not-"<p>

"No. Look at the date."

She did, and her skin went cold. "That's impossible. This must be some prank, or malfunction."

"I don't think so." His tone was odd. "You didn't get any feed because there is no public one available. I'm getting one that's on a restricted frequency. The encoding's decades old, but it's Hierarchy military."

"You mean to tell me the year is 2157 and we're on Shanxi?" She had meant to make it sound like a bad joke, but she didn't quite succeed, as cold dread started to settle in her stomach.  
>This place, at this time, would be the stage for the bitter conflict that had followed the first encounter between their two respective species. Something that had started out as a misunderstanding had turned into a three-month conflict that had soured relations between turians and humans for more than three decades.<br>And they were right in the middle of it. Shepard very briefly considered whether they indeed hadn't made it back through the relay, she had died again and this was hell, then dismissed the possibility out of principle.  
>"Not possible," she repeated, even if the environment around seemed hell-bent on proving her wrong.<p>

Yet she was already on her way to investigate.

They cleared some larger vegetation that had apparently kept them from being detected, and came upon what was obviously the scene of the conflict she'd heard minutes ago.  
>There was a burned spot on what looked like a rough road, with tracks made by wide tires leading through it. Some fragments of warped metal were strewn about. There were footprints of both humans and turians.<br>She counted five human bodies on the ground, three men, two women, all of them in civilian clothes, all of them rather young, all dead by gunshots. None of the bodies had any weapons left, but that really didn't come as a surprise.  
>She checked each of them, identified some tattoos on three of them that wouldn't make sense to a nonhuman, but were quite common among Alliance soldiers. None had any identification tags, however.<br>There were spots of blue blood on the rough road, some of them substantial, and drag marks around them.  
>Shepard grimaced.<br>"They set an ambush for a turian patrol, some explosives, maybe a mine to stop their vehicle. Didn't work out, apparently. So the patrol killed them, took their weapons, then continued on its way and left the bodies here."

Garrus visibly hesitated, trying to gauge her mood, but then pointed at the bloodstains. "The patrol took some losses, too. They dragged them into the APC." He hesitated again, then added "Wounded or dead are never left behind if there's any other choice."

"Well, that's supposed to be true for Alliance military, too." She debated with herself for a moment, then quietly said "Those were Alliance military, not civilians. They didn't wear uniform or carry dog tags, but I recognised some of their tattoos."

Garrus didn't seem surprised. "So they camouflaged themselves as noncombatants."

She shook her head. "That's not...this is against the rules of war even at this time. This is wrong. All of this is."  
>She couldn't articulate it, not properly, but she felt sick to the stomach about this whole mess. She had been in the military for about half her life, and she fought and killed enemies on an almost daily basis, but this was different. These weren't pirates, raiders or other criminals. There were regular soldiers on both sides of this. That made all the difference, because she had never before been in quite that situation. Even in the conflict against the batarians in which she had fought, their opponents had been criminals, not regular soldiers or even militia. It didn't matter that these criminals' actions had very likely been sanctioned by the batarian government. In the end, it just had been another fight against criminal elements, however well equipped.<br>In all the conflicts she had fought, she had been able to tell herself that she was doing the right thing, fighting on the right, the just side, for the right cause. There were some decisions that weighted on her conscience, true, because armed conflicts never were clean-cut, ordered affairs where one could be certain to only ever precisely target the real enemy instead of any civilians, bystanders and generally desperate, scared people that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but on the whole she had never regretted being Alliance military. Unlike this here. There was no justice or honour in this. This was senseless, a conflict that served no purpose save to ruin relations between their respective species for decades.  
>The turians here viewed the humans as criminals, for breaking the law of the galactic community, and in their own way only did the duty they had been sworn to. The humans only knew that they had been attacked for no apparent reason at all, by aliens that matched the definition of monsters quite well. Well, she amended, at least until humans met their first krogans, at which point the scale would have to be adjusted a bit. Humans tended to go too much by outer appearance still, and even in her own time there still was a lot of mutual distrust between humans and the rest of the galactic community.<br>And all of that because of some damned misunderstanding, the actions of damned, stubborn fools on both sides. Then again, that probably held true for most wars.

"Is there anything you want to do for the fallen?" Garrus asked quietly. "I'm not familiar with human procedure on this, but-"

"No," she interrupted. "We're in hostile territory, and at risk ourselves, and it's not feasible to give them any sort of burial. There are no tags for me to collect and to return to their CO either, so there is nothing I can do here and now." She turned away, hating having to do this despite her words, because this wasn't right either. They had been fellow soldiers who had fallen in the line of duty. They deserved some sort of acknowledgement, and she had none to give. "Let's gain some distance from here, before anyone comes back to check. We can't afford to be caught by either side."

He nodded in agreement, not even voicing the question that had to be on his mind as much as on hers. What do we do now, and how the hell do we get back?

She was glad for that, because she had no answer to that one. But first things first. Right now they needed a reasonably safe place to rest up a bit. She hoped that by then she would have at least some vague idea as to how to get them out of this fix.


	2. Chapter 2

They did finally go to ground a good way off the road, making their way through increasingly dense vegetation and trying to keep the traces of their passing as superficial as possible. Shepard had Garrus take the lead, simply because he had more experience in navigating this sort of terrain. She was following close in his footsteps.  
>Eventually, Garrus pointed to a hollow under some particular large example of local flora that didn't merit the term tree only because it didn't seem to have any wooden parts, but the giant tangle of thick vines would provide good cover for them, whatever its precise botanical designation. She nodded in agreement.<br>They both had shut down the tech part of their armours, sacrificing kinetic shields, health monitoring and HUD for a chance not to show up on anyone's combat scanners for the time being, so she figured that they had at least a chance at getting a short rest.  
>Shepard ducked under the mass of vines, and found the space behind larger than initially expected. It was probably some former animal lair, abandoned by the creature who originally dug it. She didn't care about that. To the two of them it meant temporary shelter, and a chance to catch their breath.<br>She sat down on the ground, struggling to keep at least sitting as exhaustion caught up with her. It was hard to think, because her thoughts seemed so slow, so unwieldy. This simply was too much, right now.  
>They'd just escaped the Collector base, victorious after long, exhausting fighting, and she'd stopped even counting the close calls they'd had on that one, how many times either she or one of their comrades almost died. And yet they had done it. They'd recovered their missing crew, and taken no losses in that prolonged nightmare run of a mission. She'd literally made it back to the ship on the last dregs of her energy while the Normandy raced for the relay, trying to outrun the shock wave of the exploding base behind them.<br>She felt no triumph about any of that now. She wasn't sure she felt anything now, but a childish, hurt, angry surprise at the unfairness of it all, at having been thrown into a surreal nightmare she still didn't quite believe, and then distant annoyance at herself for even complaining about the universe being unfair. It wasn't about fairness. Rationally, she knew that.  
>She was hanging on to sanity by threads, and they were snapping one by one, and yet she knew she couldn't just break down here. She had to be strong, put up a brave facade, because someone still depended on her to do the right thing, to make the right decision and to get them out of this alive. She couldn't voice her doubts and fears. Garrus didn't need to see that side of her, didn't need any additional pressure.<br>He was too smart not to be afraid in this impossible situation. She wouldn't make it worse for him. She still had that responsibility to him, as his commanding officer, if not as his friend or partner.

She'd never felt so alone, and yet numb, like she was disconnected from herself. It wasn't precisely shock, not as she knew it, but something was very wrong.

"Shepard." Garrus' voice was close to her ear as he leaned towards her, and she didn't quite jump. "I know you're taking this hard. I'm here. Talk to me."

Something in that tone almost broke her, made her say more than she'd intended to.  
>"This is not-" her breath caught in her throat. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't."<p>

"Sure you can. We've been through worse, just a few hours ago. We'll make it through this one as well."

"Garrus. Are you even aware that here and now, your species and mine are enemies?"

His expression didn't waver. "Maybe they are. But you and me, we're not, and we won't be."

His absolute confidence touched her, and her mental state clearly was decaying badly, because she didn't even give it a second thought as she impulsively hugged him.

He was surprised for a moment, but then his arms came up around her, and he rested his cheek against hers, warm, smooth plate against her skin, and she savoured the contact for the simple, basic comfort that gave.  
>Then he growled, and something in that sound went straight through her spine and settled in some more primitive part of her brain. The impulse to just touch for comfort transformed into a stab of sudden, searing need, and she shrank back in a mixture of embarrassment and bewilderment at her own reactions.<p>

Garrus seemed startled by her action, his expression mildly confused as he searched her face. "What's wrong?"  
>She was still wondering what to tell him, precisely, and struggling to keep her hands off him because this wasn't the time and the place and just because they'd shared the night before the trip through the relay didn't mean she had any right to jump him like this, when something changed in his eyes, and she realised with a sinking feeling that he had caught on.<p>

"Oh. So you-" He broke off, and something in his voice changed. "Didn't know that humans- " He shook his head, then leaned in, again resting his cheek against hers. "It's fine. Go on. It's all right. I want-"

He had no chance to say anything further, because her fingers were already at the back of his neck, which made his breath hitch in a gasp, and she was reaching for the seals of his hardsuit.  
>He growled again, his hands on her own armour, and she distantly thought that it was a definite advantage they were used to each other's armour and helping each other with the removal of same.<p>

It was so hard to think, but she tried to slow down, give him at least a chance to draw back, or voice some objection or at least state some rules for this.

She had done her research on the technical and emotional part of that sort of relation with a turian. The extranet hadn't been much help, but by pure chance she had come upon two C-sec officers on the Citadel, a battle-scarred turian who called himself Nisus, and a competent military human woman named Fisher, who apparently shared a deep, long-time relationship. They'd been unexpectedly helpful, freely offering a lot of insight into how a relationship like that could work, from the purely physical aspect as well as from the much more complex emotional one. It had been enough to make her swallow her doubts and approach Garrus, enough to understand that for both of them it was a lot more than just curiosity or some casual arrangement but the beginning of something permanent. There had been a promise between them, wordlessly acknowledged, but there hadn't been the time yet to define what was between them.

She'd been so careful with him, so afraid of making some mistake in the brief hours before the trip through the relay they'd claimed for their personal time, because she was aware of the deep cultural differences between them. He trusted her, she knew that, but she didn't know enough about his behaviour in that regard yet to be certain that he wasn't just going along with what she wanted against his own better judgement. There simply hadn't been enough time yet to learn about that part of him. Until she was sure that he wasn't doing that or at least had learned to tell the difference, she had to be careful or risk inadvertently hurting him. Physically, he was, of course, stronger than her, and tougher. Emotionally, though, things were very different, and in that regard he'd been hurt enough already. She couldn't add to that hurt.

And despite that, she very well might might do so if she wasn't careful.

Her hands touched bare plate, something unfamiliar about the line of his stomach, but she couldn't think about it now.  
>The middle part of her armour fell away, and he detached the undersuit just as deftly, and then his hands were on her skin, and everything else no longer mattered as her reason gave way to something more primitive and single-minded that swept away all thinking.<br>There was no time for finesse, no time for talking things through. There was only need, the irresistible urge to touch, to feel, arousal so high that it bordered on painful.

Garrus snarled and pushed her back, and even if she wasn't quite familiar with this side of him yet, his behaviour left little doubt that he was in quite similar a state. They were in agreement, then, and relief flooded her, because right now she needed this. Needed him.

She hooked her fingers into his collar, drawing him close, hoping he'd understand the action because she suddenly didn't seem to have any words left.  
>He did, and the strange, low snarl he gave was the only warning she had as he bore down on her, driving himself into her in a quick, hard thrust.<br>It was sudden, and his still unfamiliar shape stretched her in a way that was bordering on painful and yet precisely what she needed right now.

She would have screamed, but some part of her at least had some survival instinct left, which included a basic understanding for the need for keeping quiet and thus undetected, and so the only sound she could make was a low mewl.  
>It seemed to startle him, and he almost drew back, but she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking herself against him in a scraping of armour against plate.<br>Garrus growled again, the pitch of his voice dropping, and moved against her, a sharp, harsh stroke, and with that any chance of taking this slow was gone. His thrusts became fast, deep, and she matched him move for move, stroke for stroke, just as desperate. It kept her on a knife's edge between pleasure and pain, and still needing more.  
>It was rough, a lot rougher than she usually played, or ever had done with another partner, but it cut through the haze that seemed to isolate her from herself, made her feel something again.<br>And still need built up, until it was impossible to think around it any more, and there was nothing any more but now and the feel of him on her, in her. It was too intense to last, and it didn't. His claws clenched into her back, piercing skin, white-hot circles of pain among the fierce pleasure, and for some reason that set her off. She whimpered as she arched against him, fingernails digging into the soft skin on the inside of his collar, and he snarled, then shuddered hard against her, his release just as fierce and sudden as hers had been.

Reason returned as she still clung to him, waiting for her breathing to calm down again, and she winced as he pulled his claws out of her back. She still was stunned about her own actions. Sure, it could be explained readily with the mixture of shock and exhaustion, and the need to feel something, anything, connect to another living being in the most basic way possible, but that wasn't her first mission gone awry. She had never acted like this before. And she certainly did feel some embarrassment, not only because of that loss of control, but for her own lack of sensibility.

"Um. Don't know how to properly say this, but...sorry?"

He pulled back a bit to look into her face, and his expression was one of honest confusion. "Whatever for?"

She knew that she was blushing. "Didn't mean to jump on you like a crazed varren without asking you first whether you're okay with that."

Garrus laughed. "I wasn't exactly fighting you off, was I? I would assume that would be hint enough."

"Still, I should have asked. It's not how I do this, usually."

"I know." He drew a thumb over her cheek, a tender gesture. "Under the circumstances, a normal reaction in both of our species. We both needed a break." He chuckled. "And you are quite something when you are assertive like that. How could I refuse that?"

She searched his face. "You will tell me if something I ask of you goes against what you want?"

Something in his eyes softened, but his tone was playful. "You do know that I'm very capable of complaining if necessary?"

She snorted, picking up on that tone. "Don't I know that."

"There then is your answer. No regrets on my side, quite the opposite. Although I will demand the opportunity to show off my skills in a more relaxed setting, as soon as we're back where we belong. If I recall correctly, you said something like that already, before this mission, and I fully intend to follow your orders there." His tone was amused. Then he peered at her, genuine concern in his expression. "Are you feeling better?"

The question was too sudden, her reply came without thinking. "Yes." She thought about it for some moment, then had to confirm that it was true. She was still exhausted, still ached all over, and they were still caught in a hopeless situation with no obvious way out. But she was feeling like herself again, grounded, and she wasn't alone. It wasn't hopeless. She just hadn't found the way out yet.  
>She nodded, with more certainty.<p>

"Good. Now stop worrying about me." She probably wouldn't, but she could tell herself that they would be okay. Instead of any verbal answer, she drew his head down, resting her forehead against his. He purred, traced the line of her jaw with a thumb, then clearly regretfully drew back.  
>She understood, of course.<br>Back to the problem at hand.

She disentangled from him, automatically hunting for the parts of her undersuit and armour to get dressed again. Her back smarted fiercely where his claws had raked her, but she kept it turned away from him as she replaced the middle section of the undersuit. It wouldn't impair her ability to fight, and she would heal quickly enough. The muscle and skin weave courtesy of Cerberus would see to that.  
>No need to draw his attention to the scratches, because he'd feel guilty about it, and there was no reason for him to do so.<p>

She did note the patch of congealed medigel on his belly before he slipped his own undersuit over it, and frowned.  
>His armour in that section was damaged.<p>

"How badly are you hurt?" she asked.

From the way he held himself, she could tell that he was debating with himself whether he should make light of the question, but her stern look convinced him otherwise. He tapped the armour over his belly with a negligent claw.  
>"Caught a round there when my shields failed, when my team rejoined yours," he simply said.<p>

She remembered, of course. She'd seen him get hit, when they'd just evaded the seeker swarms on the Collector base. She didn't want to remember that stab of panic she'd felt at the sight of him suddenly clutching his midsection, hunching over himself in the universal way of serious hurt. He'd straightened up again immediately, motioning to her that he way fine, but she hadn't been able keep from coming over to him, although a quick touch of his arm was the only gesture of affection and relief she'd allowed herself at that point.

"You said you were okay," she replied, calmly, trying not to sound accusing.

"I said I could fight on." He shrugged. "And I still can. I'll be fine for a couple of days."

He was right, of course. The medigel would keep him free of pain, and keep the internal damage contained, the bleeding staunched, but it couldn't heal the damage. It was only a temporary fix. He would require surgery eventually.

"After that?"

Garrus shrugged again. "I might be in a bit of trouble then."

She stared at him, then her eyes narrowed in resolve. "Right. So we'll just have to try to get back home a bit faster."

He nodded. "Thought you'd say that."

"Right. Now get some rest." She would find a way to get them back, and fast, because losing him simply wasn't an option. There would be a way. There always was.  
>She pushed that problem from her mind for the time being, because she knew she needed rest, so she leaned back, trying to relax.<br>She didn't sleep, precisely, but she did doze, awareness of her surroundings dimmed down as much as possible. This was one of the perks of her reconstruction. She could get by with very little true sleep for a long time. She didn't even know the limits yet herself, but she figured she was good to go for some time yet. At her side, she could sense Garrus doing something similar.

Time passed, and she made herself come fully awake again when she sensed Garrus doing the same. He stretched slowly, then looked at her, waiting.

She sighed. "So. Here's what I've been thinking. I remember EDI screaming something about some sort of anomaly before it all went dark."

Garrus nodded. "I heard that, too."

"So if we're lucky, whatever got us is something that can be detected by our technology. If we're especially lucky, it will show up on current technology as well, and we can go looking for it, assuming that it's still around." She shrugged. "Long shot, I know, but..."

He shrugged. "It's worth a try," he agreed. "So we need to borrow some scanning equipment, ideally within some means of transportation." His mandibles flared into a fierce grin. "In short, we need to steal some vehicle, maybe an APC, in the middle of a violent conflict between your people and mine, with no backup, without being seen by either side. Or being shot at by either side. Or killing anyone on either side and risk changing history."

Shepard nodded.

His mandibles flared into a broad grin. "Easy. What could possible go wrong?"


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard should have known that with Garrus' cocky words, it had become almost inevitable that things simply had to go wrong. The frustrating part was that they almost managed to sneak their way past yet another turian patrol in an APC, when they were spotted.  
>Garrus growled a warning, and they hit cover almost simultaneously as the APC started firing at their position.<p>

Before she knew it, she was caught in a full-size firefight between them and the patrol. She knew from the beginning that they were at a severe disadvantage, not because they were outnumbered and outgunned - they both were used to worse odds, after all - but simply because she wasn't willing to take the risk of killing any of them.  
>She used concussive shots to take down shields, retreating all the while, trusting in Garrus to place some precise nonlethal shots if necessary. It almost worked, because the vegetation here was dense enough to provide enough cover for them to move, and to hide the fact that there were only the two of them, and she turned to Garrus to make some smart remark or another.<p>

Then somebody threw them a grenade at them that took out their kinetic shields, and another one in quick succession, and that, unfortunately, decided things against them.  
>Garrus went down, as did she, but different from her he didn't even try to get to his feet again. She snarled, heaving herself over to him.<br>He seemed stunned, mostly, not fully conscious, but at least from the outside she could detect no new damage on him. It was clear enough that he wasn't up to moving on his own, though.  
>"Get the hell out of here," he ground out. "They'll not harm me, but they'll kill you on sight."<p>

"Like hell," she snapped back. "I'm not leaving you."

He looked like he was fully prepared to argue, but movement in her peripheral vision made her snap her head around. She raised her gun, wasted time in an instinctive move to put herself between Garrus and the incoming turian soldier, then checked herself as she realised that that action would be interpreted wrongly as well. She fired a concussive shot at the soldier, which at least made him pause, but another came up from behind her, and the next thing she felt was a vicious blow against the head that sent her down. Pain blossomed behind her eyes, and she tried to at least shield her head, but a precise kick with an armoured boot took away all thoughts of fighting back.  
>Shepard didn't completely lose consciousness, but her vision was hazy as the soldier rolled her over to look down on her, snarling, his weapon trained on her. "This one's odd. Looks very different from what we've seen of them before."<p>

"Looks like she's the only one left." This came from another soldier, this one a female, and, judging by the way she was talking, the patrol leader.

"She didn't quite get him, but he looks like he took quite a few hits. He seems stable enough to move. Can't tell what unit he is from, though, and his equipment isn't anything I've seen before." They had to be talking about Garrus, Shepard realised. And of course they had immediately come to the conclusion that she had been the one responsible for his injuries.

"We'll bring them both. Let the commander figure that one out."

The soldier closest to her shrugged, reversed the grip on his rifle and brought its end down smartly on her head.  
>The pain didn't have time to register before all went dark.<p>

# # #

Shepard woke up to a pounding headache and the feeling of being dragged to her feet roughly. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but she could tell from the dizziness and the vague nausea that her numerous implants weren't done yet with getting her up to normal status. It was quite likely that she had suffered at least mild concussion. Not much of a surprise, her armour and weapons were gone, although she still had her undersuit on. And there was a turian soldier in heavy armour currently in front of her, a quick impression of a bulky shape, a flash of teeth in a red-brown face streaked with a swirling pattern of green lines, and a rather unforgiving clawed hand around the back of her neck.  
>The soldier let go of her with a contemptuous snort and a slight push, and the sudden lack of support made her sway for a moment. Instinctively, she tried to brace herself against the wall close to her side, but something was interfering with the mobility of her hands, and she hit the wall with her shoulder instead.<br>Her mind cleared, and she looked down at the heavy-duty handcuffs, ruthlessly squashing the spike of panic that tried to rise. This was nothing unexpected so far, she told herself. Apart from the lump on her head, she probably had no other new injuries. As far as she could tell, her implants were intact, which was something of a relief. She was still without weapons and armour, but her regenerative capabilities should be unaffected, and the mods embedded in her left lower arm seemed functional as well, which left her with a basic form of omnitool.  
>She might just have a few surprises up her sleeves yet, because they certainly weren't used to the tech she had, in this time and place. Hopefully that would give her enough of an edge.<p>

The soldier apparently had lost his patience, because a hard shove against her back made her stumble forward. She regained her equilibrium, taking stock of her surroundings.  
>They were indoors, in some nondescript corridor that could have belonged on any older station or outpost. Standard design, modular building structure.<br>She blinked, trying to clear her head as her guard marched her forward.  
>There were some markings on the walls and doors they passed, and these were in human writing. They were in a human encampment, then, one that presumably was occupied by the turians for the time being. She kept quiet, giving her implants time to work, and tried to take in as much detail as possible about her surroundings.<p>

They soon came to a stop in front of an unmarked door in what Shepard assumed was some sort of administrative area. Her guard snarled and pulled the door open.

Shepard was pushed rather unceremoniously into the room, then the door closed behind her, cutting off her escape.  
>She blinked, taking in the interior of the room with quick, trained efficiency. It had been some sort of office, layout and furniture human style, before the turians had taken over and converted it to the commanding officer's ready room.<br>They hadn't even swapped out the desk or seats for something more accommodating to turian built and proportion, which told her that this really was only a temporary stay for them, making it not worth the effort to make any changes.

The commanding officer in charge was a solid-looking, dark faced turian in simple dark grey armour that sported no markings she could identify. There were sparse white markings on his face, and his eyes were a glittering yellow. It was impossible to tell at the moment how tall he was standing up, since he was sitting behind the desk, but she would assume him to stand taller than Garrus.  
>He regarded her without any expression she could read, and she did her best to return the courtesy.<br>She refused to be unnerved, and remained completely still.

He stood suddenly, and she had been right there, he was tall. He looked even taller and more massive as came closer, and she had to admit he was at least as light on his feet as Garrus was.  
>There was something in his hand, a small device that he aimed at her casually.<p>

She felt her eyes narrow, and didn't flinch from the orange glow of a scanner. She did wince as her implanted translator glitched for a moment, filling her perception with static for a fraction of a second, but then the interference faded away. Being scanned wasn't a good thing, although she hardly was surprised. Still, she wondered what precisely his scanner could pick up, and more importantly, what it would make of her cybernetics.

After a few moments, the turian nodded, as to himself, and gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Sit."

She hesitated. This wasn't going according to how she had assumed this to go. She had read accounts of this time from combatants from both sides. She knew how prisoners were treated, on both sides.

As calmly as she could, she took a seat, still returning his gaze, letting her hands rest in her lap. The restraints weren't even that uncomfortable. She had been in worse situations.

He nodded, as if to himself, then said in an even voice. "You're something of a puzzle, human."

Shepard lifted an enquiring eyebrow.

Still regarding her, he set down her pistol on the table between them.

For a moment she was confused, although she automatically calculated her chances to try and reach it, and discarded the plan for the moment. The turian was watching her for exactly that reaction.  
>She couldn't quite understand what why he'd be interested in the pistol, when the Collector rifle and the Mantis had to be much more glaring examples of tech she shouldn't have. The pistol, however, was a standard Spectre weapon, and she'd owned it for years. Then the implications of that hit home. Spectre tech was distinct enough to be just as much a symbol of the profession as any ID she might have shown, and no one but a Spectre could use that weapon. They were bio-coded to their owners, and very resistant to tampering, with a nasty tendency to auto-destruct if someone was trying to hack the biometric scanner. Sometimes a Spectre might code one of their weapons to a trusted team member if they ran with a team for support instead of alone, but that was rare.<br>All in all, that pistol was a lot more incriminating than the Cerberus or Collector tech, because contrary to these examples, Spectre tech would be recognised.

Shepard gave him her best blank stare.

The turian tapped a claw against the pistol, thoughtfully.  
>"Did you steal this from the turian you shot?"<p>

She didn't reply, of course, but thought hard whether she could turn this assumption to her advantage. Would it make sense to let them believe that Garrus was a Spectre?

The turian sighed. "Maybe he in turn stole it from its rightful owner. We haven't identified him yet. His equipment is unusual. Chances are that he will eventually be identified as some rogue agent and executed. But maybe you do want to tell me about that gun?"

She didn't blink. She didn't try and go for the pistol, either. She had only one chance at this here, and this wasn't it, not yet. She couldn't worry about how Garrus was faring, either. This wasn't how this was played.  
>She deliberately didn't react at all to the question. If she was lucky, he'd get angry at that. Angry turians made mistakes.<p>

"Still mute, aren't you. Fine. Have it your way." He suddenly stood again and rounded the table, collecting her gun again.

He looked down at her, and she again considered him with cold eyes. "Well. Let's see."

She was used to how fast turians could move, but even so the blow was so quick that she didn't have time to properly react.  
>He backhanded her hard enough to make her head snap back, and her vision darkened for a moment.<br>Then both her stubbornness and her enhancements kicked in, and she shook off the effects of the blow, but he was already behind her, one hand around her throat, talons not quite nicking her carotid artery. She had to give it to him, he was taking no chances.  
>"Don't move." She didn't, and he dropped the pistol into her lap.<br>"Pick it up."  
>Shepard didn't react, and he closed his other hand around her wrists, hard enough to numb her nerves, forcing her to touch the pistol. With a very faint hum, the weapon went active as the hidden scanner responded to her bio signature.<p>

He forced her hands back, and the pistol went inert again. With a quick move, he snatched it back, then stepped back and released her neck.

Shepard forced herself to stay relaxed, although she did rub her wrists slowly to restore circulation.

The turian sighed. "I could make the same test with the turian you shot. I'd rather spare us all the trouble. So why don't you start talking and explain to me how this is possible?"

She stared at him, considering. He was too calm, which gave her nothing to work with. He wasn't angry at all, and the violence so far had been calculated, a means to an end, not out of a loss of temper. And he already suspected her of being dangerous.  
>Which made the whole situation even more strange. If he was that cautious, then why did he even risk interrogating her alone?<p>

He tossed his head back. "Right. As you wish." The turian commander spoke something into his comm unit that was too soft for her translator to catch, then continued to stare at her, waiting.

Shepard met his gaze, trying not to think. This one was too perceptive as it was.

Then the door opened, and two soldiers dragged an unresisting Garrus into the room. He was out of his armour, but still had his undersuit on, like she did. She had a glimpse of his eyes meeting hers, his expression hazy, then one of the soldiers gave him a rough push that sent him staggering towards the middle of the room. The door closed behind them, and Garrus kept to his feet for a moment then crashed to the ground.

Later on she blamed her reaction on the constant stress, on fear that had gone too long, on that feeling of surreality of getting caught in all of this, but whatever the cause, it was suddenly too much, and reason was displaced by instinct.  
>She didn't even really recall moving, although she must have, because she was suddenly kneeling beside Garrus, touching her bound hands to his mandible, then his neck below. His skin was too hot, but he relaxed for a moment, then snarled a wordless, rasping warning.<br>Claws clenched down on her shoulder, hauling her off, and her reflexive counter didn't connect, because the turian commander had already let go of her.  
>She recovered her balance, then went still as the dark-faced turian calmly crouched beside Garrus and laid a hand against his neck, regarding Shepard again. Garrus struggled weakly, his expression still defiant. He was trying to say something, but his voice failed him.<p>

Fear for him ran cold through her, then was replaced by a flash of white-hot fury, and she lifted her head and looked up at the commander.  
>"Very well, you have my attention now. What have you done to him?"<p>

"Nothing irreversible," he replied, and the evasiveness of that was deliberate, intended to put her off balance. It worked.

She couldn't suppress a snarl, but didn't move. "Harm him, and I swear I will make you regret that." she said, her voice too calm.

He nodded, still with that calm, unreadable expression. "That now I believe." He looked down on Garrus, considering him in a detached, impersonal way like a complicated puzzle, then said "You didn't shoot him, either, although you were content to let me believe that. I have no particular grudge against you, or your kind. However, I am going to be relieved of command of this post very soon, and someone with a lot less patience and even less interest in any of this will take over. You probably will be executed. At best, your companion will end up in prison until his identity can be confirmed. Unless, of course, you can give me a good explanation of what I'm seeing here. I think all of us are running out of time here."

He couldn't know it, but he was right. They were running out of time, and not just the two of them. She shook her head. "I can't. I must not."

He snorted. "Stop playing me for a fool, human. I happen to know a thing or two about Spectres and their gear. I used to work for one, some years back. That pistol is not a fake. The only way you can have acquired it is to either be a Spectre yourself or work with one permanently." He nodded at Garrus. "Could be him, but from the way you both react I think it's you. So can you tell me how a member of a species we only just met and currently are fighting against could be a Spectre?"

She shook her head. "You wouldn't believe it."

He sighed and dug his claws into Garrus' neck. "Try me."

She noted Garrus wasn't really reacting any more, and that made the difference.

"I'm a Spectre, but if you want any confirmation from the Council for that, you might have be patient. Like, for about twenty-eight years. I shouldn't even be here, I have no idea how we even got here, because the last thing I remember was going through a mass relay after a very, very rough job, and we ended up backwards in time. All I can tell you is that this is already going wrong left and right, and I'm trying to stop this from becoming a full-scale war, because, really, both of our species have better things to do." She drew her lips back from her teeth in a snarl. "And now take your hands off him before I decide that I really don't care about any consequences anymore."

He gave her a long look, then unhurriedly drew his hand back and stood.  
>"It sounds insane." he said calmly. "And of course I don't believe it."<p>

"Hadn't expected you to," she muttered, angrily, making her way back to Garrus' side, and this time he didn't stop her.

Garrus didn't move when she touched him, and his eyes were half-closed and unfocused. His skin was still far too hot even for a turian. She was losing him, and for the first time she admitted that possibility to herself.  
>She didn't care anymore, not about the hopelessness of the situation, not about the turian commander watching her every move and drawing his conclusions from it. She had already given him too much of a leverage against her. It couldn't get any worse, and if this was goodbye, she wouldn't let Garrus go pretending she didn't know him or care about him. Not even if was the correct thing to do from a tactical point of view.<br>She leaned in, cradling his head, then rested her forehead against his. "It's okay." she said, softly, not knowing whether he understood. "I'm here."  
>She felt him relax under her touch, drew back fighting down panic, and found he had lost consciousness. He was still breathing, so there was still hope, and she felt her resolve hardening again as she lifted her head and stared up at the turian commander.<p>

She couldn't read his expression, not at all. She couldn't even tell whether he had understood what she had just done, or whether the difference in species was enough to make the mere thought seem absurd, the gesture random and meaningless. She only could hope for the latter.  
>Until this moment, she had just wanted the both of them to get away and out of this fiasco. Now...it didn't matter that she was out of her time, that she didn't belong here. She was a Spectre, regardless of where and when she was. She wouldn't stand by and watch this.<br>Screw the time-line, screw paradox or continuity.  
>She already was in too deep. She didn't know precisely how the First Contact War really ended, only that the Citadel Council stepped in before things got really out of hand. Fine. So somebody needed to alert them. It might just as well be her, then.<p>

"Help me end this. Please." she said quietly. "Let me send a single message to the Citadel. If the Council knows, they can end this without any further bloodshed."

He seemed to consider for a moment, then shook his head. "Even if I believed you and agreed, doing that would be treason. I cannot help you."

She closed her eyes briefly, privately acknowledging defeat, if only temporary. There was no changing this one's mind, here and now, she could see that. She had to find another way. Shepard got up, stepped away from Garrus because she had to, then went back to her seat, giving the turian commander her best expressionless look.  
>"Then there's nothing left to discuss."<p>

He held her gaze for a few seconds, then nodded once.

Shepard didn't resist when the soldiers reappeared to take her away, because unarmed she had no chance here and she knew it, and she didn't look back at Garrus, because she knew if she had she would have tried anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Apparently the small encampment didn't have any sort of high security room that could be converted to a temporary prison, so the turians had simply designated one of the habitation containers for storing their prisoners.  
>It made a nice change, Shepard mused, to be held captive in what looked to be a rather normal home fitting for a colony as young as this one.<br>The living space was rather cramped, but there were bunks, there was a tiny bathroom, and a corner holding a tiny kitchen.  
>She certainly had been locked up under worse circumstances before.<br>She hadn't counted for having company, though. Said company came in the form of a young woman in civilian clothes, who looked up in vague surprise at Shepard being pushed in through the door. She held her tongue until the door had closed again, then gave her an openly appraising look.  
>"So, they caught another one of us, didn't they. Who the hell might you be?"<p>

Shepard regarded her with just as much interest. She took in a face with strong lines, bright blue eyes and a shock of blond hair that was hacked off well above the shoulders, and a rather wiry built. The woman was on edge, of course, and frightened although doing her best not to show it, but her reactions weren't those of a civilian.

"Lost, just like you," Shepard said by way of answer, then went to explore their surroundings, just as a precaution. The other soldier watched her without much surprise.

"Nothing that'll help as far as I could see, but feel free to check for yourself." she offered. "There's some rations in the cold storage in case you're hungry, though."

Not a bad suggestion, since she'd need all the energy she could get. Besides, by her calculation it was only dusk by now. She had a few hours to kill to make a move.  
>Shepard shrugged. It made only sense to take what rest she could until then.<br>She made use of the small bathroom to strip out of her underarmour and clean up, as well as take care of her minor injuries as well as she could under the circumstances. It was a pity that her medigel supply was in her armour and therefore lost to her, because she had some claw marks courtesy of a collector drone on her left leg where her armour had given way, and those cuts could have used some additional aid. Just as well as one or two of the deeper punctures in her back, now that she thought of it.  
>The rest wasn't worth mentioning, just bruises and some scrapes, although some of the bruises certainly looked impressive in colouration and scope. Still, she had been very, very lucky to escape from the collector base with just these marks on her.<p>

On the plus side, the tiny shower was functional, as she was pleased to see.

The door to the bathroom opened, and she automatically turned to face the intruder.  
>"Need any help?" The young woman poked her head in, tossing Shepard a towel. She caught it, nodding her thanks as she wrapped herself in it.<p>

"Thanks, I'm fine."

The other woman flicked a quick look over her, taking in her appearance, and the interest was clinical, assessing the state of a potential ally. Shepard inwardly raised her evaluation of the other soldier up a few notches. This one might be young, but she had seen combat before.

"You hurt?"

Shepard gave a humourless grin. "Just scrapes."

"Good." The soldier retreated, leaving Shepard to finish drying herself off and dressing herself in the undersuit again in peace.

When she left the bathroom, the other woman was sprawled on the tiny couch in the living area. "Name's Julia, by the way." she said. "You're an N7?"

Shepard nodded cautiously. Apparently Julia had seen the tattoo on her shoulder.

"Didn't know we had any of you planetside. What's your unit?"

She hesitated. "Better if I don't tell you that."

Julia shrugged, although her gaze sharpened slightly. "Suit yourself, N7." She hung her head. "Damned aliens got my whole squad. We gave them a good fight, but they simply were too many. One yellow-eyed bastard built like a brick wall got me. Knocked me out could, cut my armour off me." She distractedly picked at her civilian clothes. "I found these here. Looks like whoever lived here didn't have time to pack. Damned aliens. I don't even know why they took me back here, from what we've seen so far they usually don't take prisoners." There was a short pause. "I can't help wondering what they want us for." Julia continued, in a soft and absent voice. Her voice shook only slightly, but Shepard could tell she was putting up a brave front simply because that was what a soldier did, and that she was badly scared.  
>She couldn't blame her.<p>

"They probably want to get what intel they can from you," Shepard thought aloud.

"Won't do them much good, then," Julia said with a shrug. "I'm just a comm officer. I double as an engineer, for crying out loud." She snorted. "Not that any of that matters. Far as I can tell, no one's figured out how to communicate with them yet."

Shepard froze. It made sense, of course, but she had forgotten. She tried not to swear. The glitch in her translator when the commander had scanned her had been just a side effect from the much older base system trying to sync up with her translator. As things were, it had been successful, because he had understood her well enough.  
>She had just given them a nice selection of the most common human languages. The tactical advantage in that was incalculable.<br>And all she could do now was to even the field a little.  
>"Actually," she said slowly "someone has." She held out her hand. "Give me your translator, I probably can upgrade it."<p>

The soldier unclipped the small device from behind her left ear and handed it over without comment, but there was certainly some wariness in her expression. Shepard decided that couldn't be helped and set to work on the unfamiliar model.  
>After some moments of unproductive fiddling with the outdated hardware, she bit back a curse and fired up her omnitool to at least run a scan on the old-style translator and figure out how to interface with it.<p>

Julia's only reaction to the display of tech that must have been completely alien to her was rather subdued. "Interesting gadgets you have there, N7, nothing I've seen before. Is that some new experimental tech?"

"Something like that," Shepard replied evasively. "Now. Are you familiar with this location?"

At the other soldier's nod, she gave a grim smile. "Good. Tell me what you know about the layout of this place. Whatever you can think of." She must have used the correct tone of voice, because the young woman visibly focused and started to report. Shepard was quietly impressed by the quality of that report; Julia looked little older than a raw recruit, but there was nothing wrong with her mind and her perception.

While she worked on the translator, Shepard pieced together that this was, as she had suspected, just a small settlement, intended for civilian use and therefore not notably fortified or equipped with any high tech. Basically, it was just a handful of living and storage containers. There had been an Alliance outpost not too far off, but that one had been razed to the ground by the turians.  
>Officially, the humans on this world had surrendered roughly a month ago, or at least the Shanxi garrison had. But not all humans had been stationed there, and not all agreed with that sentiment. As soon as the turians had changed tactics from attacks from orbit to fighting planetside, things had become complicated. The garrison was under tight control by the turians now, and of course they didn't trust in the humans' intentions anymore, not since the first attack on a patrol since the so-called surrender.<br>They had reacted to that with their usual practice. All humans encountered outside the occupied garrison were automatically considered insurgents and attacked and killed on sight. There were no exceptions, no allowances made for civilians. And that, of course, just made the remaining Alliance soldiers fight much, much harder.

The turians that currently held this settlement were just one of a number of patrols combing the countryside for remaining Alliance soldiers and eliminating any resistance they could find. They had set up a temporary camp here, taking advantage of the existing structures, and leaving only a small base defence and basic medical and comm services in place while the rest went out hunting, usually in groups of six, each team in an APC and well-equipped.  
>Most of the stray humans had already been hunted down by them and other groups like them, and they had to believe that they had already dealt with most of the Alliance forces. Apparently the turians were just about to regroup again and move on, if she chose to believe the turian commander's remark.<br>Julia had been deliberately vague as to what precisely her part in all of this was, but Shepard guessed that she and the squad she had mentioned were just remainders of Alliance forces that had been out in the field when the garrison had surrendered, and that she and the rest of her team had disagreed with that decision and gone rogue, deciding to wage their own battle on what they perceived to be the alien intruders.

It was a complete mess.

But the most important fact she took from all of that was that right now they had to deal with only a handful of turians, maybe less than a dozen. None of them were civilians, of course, since strictly speaking there were by definition no turian civilians, but some would be medical personnel, and others would be wounded and therefore not on full duty.

There would be more coming in soon, so she had to make her move as soon as possible.

Shepard finally had to resort to turning on her omnitool to convert and transfer the data to the outdated hardware, but in the end it was successful.  
>As Julia accepted the modified translator back, she replaced it immediately.<p>

Julia seemed thoughtful. "If that language upgrade works, that really might come in handy. Not that it matters anymore at this point, but I'd really like to know eventually why they are doing this. Why the hell they attacked us in the first place."

Shepard was still too distracted with evaluating the consequences that she simply answered. "Basically a misunderstanding. Access to the mass relays is restricted by common law, and they patrol the relays and enforce that law. When our people activated that relay, they saw that as a hostile act, and our people as criminals, and some idiot on their side was a bit trigger-happy and gave no warning. And from that one thing led to another, I suppose."

The other soldier stared at her. "How do you know that? Did you catch one of these things and manage to make it talk?"

Shepard tried not to wince and reminded herself of the context these words were spoken in. She couldn't blame her fellow soldier for that, not really.  
>She straightened up, not knowing how to answer Julia's question. "Not important right now. How about we see about getting out of here?"<br>Without waiting for and reply, she got up to inspect the lock on the door.

The lock was standard turian design, and not very complicated. It made sense; the turians didn't intend to stay at this outpost, probably planned on destroying it once they moved out. All she had seen so far were just temporary customisations. They didn't seem to have any high opinion of humans as soldiers, either, so they had just slapped a standard issue lock on this container and relied on the difference in technology and the fact that they both were unarmed and presumably scared out of their minds to keep them contained.  
>She didn't quite snort in lofty contempt as she called up her omnitool again and went at the lock mechanism.<p>

After a few moments, the lock clicked open. "There we go," Shepard murmured in satisfaction. "Let's see whether we have any company."  
>A quick look outside proved that apparently the turians either had considered their makeshift prison secure enough or that they didn't have enough staff at hand to spare anyone to constantly keep an eye on their container.<br>Maybe their luck was finally changing, Shepard thought.

"Right," she said, looking at Julia with a good measure of regret. "This is where we split. I'll try to get to the comm station, put in a call for help." That, Shepard considered, was nothing but the truth. "You go ahead and try to make it out of here. Don't be seen, don't try to create a diversion for me, don't try to help me. Just get out, find a save place. Can you do that?"

Julia nodded, frowning. "Sure, but -"

"Good. Get going. If I can, I'll find you later. Good luck." She watched briefly as the other woman slipped away without another word but a very determined expression on her face, then reluctantly dismissed her from her mind.  
>She couldn't take her along, and there was nothing she could do to protect her. Julia'd be better off alone. Still, she didn't like it.<p>


	5. Chapter 5

Sneaking her way into the comm module took some time and patience, but didn't really tax her skill. Her assessment had been correct, this temporary command post was severely understaffed.  
>Then again, the turians didn't expect any serious resistance any more. Nor did they expect to deal with a Cerberus-enhanced human Spectre.<p>

The comm station was manned by one lone, tired-looking soldier who, going by his appearance, had been assigned this light sentry duty due to having been already injured in the line of duty.  
>She had the element of surprise, thanks to Cerberus she was a lot tougher and stronger than a normal human, and her reflexes were just as fast. Plus, she had the additional advantage of being rather familiar by now with turian CQC techniques; her regular sparring with Garrus had seen to that.<br>She almost managed to sneak up to him, which showed that he really wasn't at peak condition.  
>At the last possible moment he turned, and the blow that should have knocked him out glanced off and just stunned him, but apart from giving him a chance to get a badly aimed hit in at her it didn't change the outcome. She simply took that hit, then took him down quickly and efficiently with a series of moves that would have gotten even Garrus' approval.<br>There was no point in killing him, and enough reasons not to, so she rifled through his armour to find a tranq patch, slapped it on him to make sure he stayed down. His gun was unfamiliar but better than nothing, so she took it from him, dragged him a short way to behind a block of comm equipment, then left him there.

She strained her senses for a few seconds, trying to determine whether the rather subdued sounds of their battle had drawn the attention of anyone else nearby, but when no other signs of immediate trouble manifested, she relaxed her stance and continued to the comm console.

The interface was primitive compared to what she was used to, the equipment a mix of what the humans had left behind and what the turians had brought with them and quickly rigged together, but it was serviceable, and that was enough.  
>She laid the gun aside close at hand, then went to work at the console. Her struggle with the old haptic interface took most of her concentration, and she was just about done putting the message together when a clicking sound somewhere behind her made her freeze.<p>

"You didn't really think you'd get away with that, did you?"

The hate-filled voice made her blood run cold. She knew that voice, still heard it in her nightmares, even if she would never admit to that to anyone aloud, not even Garrus.  
>Slowly, she turned.<p>

"Now step away from that console, and keep your hands in sight."

Just a few steps away stood a young turian soldier, weapon trained on her. His armour was standard issue with no distinguishing marks. Yet there was something in his stance that made him different, more confident and at the same time careless than fit with his common rank. His face was a pale bone-white without any markings, the spines from his cheek and browplates unusually long and curving back parallel to his head, but it was the cold, pale blue eyes that made Shepard feel a shiver down her spine.  
>His eyes were still his own, but they might just as well have been cybernetic for all the emotion they held.<br>The gun was just a step away, but it might just as well have been on the Normandy for all the good that did. With no armour and no shields and with him already aiming at her she'd never make it.

"Saren." she couldn't help herself saying as she obeyed and took a step back from the comm console.

He cocked his head to one side in mild confusion. "Where did you get my name?"

There was nothing Shepard could reply to that. It was irrational, but somehow this had shocked her more than anything else.

Saren stalked closer, keeping his gun on her. There was no chance for escape or attack, she noted ruefully. He might be very young, but even at this age he was a competent fighter, and clearly well-trained.

"It probably doesn't matter," he decided. "Now, you are going to tell me what message you were trying to send, and to who. You may refuse, of course."

Shepard didn't scare easily any more, but something in her went cold at his tone. She knew what the Saren she had known had been capable of, had read what had been to find in his service records. "In fact, please do," Saren continued, his tone very unpleasant. "I have seen in detail what your people did to prisoners under the pretext of interrogation. I have seen what your kind left of them, and I will remember that sight. We'll see how well you hold up under the same treatment. "

She couldn't suppress a shudder as she stared at him, and she didn't miss the fact that there was just as much pain as hate and anger in his voice. It was personal for him, all of that. He'd lost someone in this conflict.  
>That's what made you hate humans so much, she thought. You've been hurt, and you'll pass on that hurt to others, and resolve never to care about anyone or anything again.<p>

Clicking footsteps signalled the approach of another turian, a tall shape in grey armour. For a moment, Shepard allowed herself some irrational hope, but the newcomer's face was dark with white markings, and gleaming yellow eyes regarded them both without any discernible emotion. If he was in any way surprised to see her loose, he showed none of it. Then again, given that he knew she was a Spectre he probably had expected something like that.

Saren had only slightly turned his head, still keeping his attention on her. The commander stepped past him, and Shepard just barely managed not to flinch as he leaned over the terminal.  
>A few taps of his claws recalled the message she had had composed, and she watched his face as he read it. She couldn't tell anything from his expression, as he tapped the controls, and the message vanished. He turned away again, past Saren again. "Well done. Now stand down, but keep an eye on her." he said to the young soldier.<p>

Saren snarled, but lowered his weapon, albeit with visible reluctance. The commander ignored him and gave Shepard a cool look. "What happened to the guard that was left in here?"

She found no reason to deny that part, so she nodded her head at the block of comm equipment. "Over there."

Still without any expression, the commander calmly went to check on the soldier that Shepard had downed. He seemed mildly surprised about something, then straightened up again. The cool yellow eyes took her measure again, and there was something strangely familiar about him for a moment, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Shepard stood, as calm as she could be about it, meeting his eyes, aware that Saren was just barely keeping himself from attacking. This was bad, and getting worse by the second.

"Interesting. You managed to escape your cell, but instead of making a run for it and try to rejoin your unit, you instead risk your life to try and send a message via comm. You also failed to kill my guard, which is a lot more restraint than I have seen from members of your species so far." The commander's voice was thoughtful.

Saren sneered. "He already was injured. Probably pure luck that she managed to render him unconscious at all."

"You're probably right." The commander sighed. He suddenly looked at Shepard sharply. "Twenty-six years, you said?"

"Twenty-eight", she corrected absently, her attention on Saren, who warily lifted his head at the seemingly out-of-context question.

"Right." The commander's voice was flat. "This is really regrettable." He lifted his rifle, and Shepard's chin lifted in unspoken challenge even as she tasted the bitterness of failure in her mouth.

She would not beg.

She had thought she couldn't be surprised any more, but the crack of the assault rifle's end against Saren's temple was completely unexpected.  
>Saren snarled in pain, surprised, but still on his feet, and even now he was a formidable fighter, Shepard had to admit. He dropped his rifle, but twisted aside and lunged at the older turian, trying to bring the claws on his hands into play. The commander managed to block one strike, but the other got through, ripping the right side of his face from browplate to mandible, missing his eye only by a fraction. With an angry snarl, the older turian slammed his rifle again against Saren's head, and this time the young soldier went down and didn't move again.<br>"There." He gave her an irritated look. "Now send your damned message."

She didn't question any further as she returned to the terminal. Her fingers flew over the interface as she recalled the message detailing the situation. Of course she couldn't send it directly via official channels. She didn't know the access codes used in this time. But there were other ways she knew now, ways that involved the hidden systems in the Citadel, the tech that wasn't of any of the Council races. It was a bit ironic, using the same communication channels that had called in the Reaper to now alert the Council of this impeding war.  
>Message sent, she leaned back, looking at him.<p>

"Why?"

He snorted. "I don't believe you. I don't want to. It's against all reason. But I can't take the chance that you might be right in the end." He hesitated, then added. "I could explain away your translator and tech. But I took your pistol apart. Maker's stamp on the biometric scanner says 2183."

Shepard blinked. "I never noticed it had one. But yes, I got it a bit over two years ago." She gave a rueful quirk of lips. "Never got around to replacing it." Then she caught on to what he had said first. "Wait, you took it apart? You shouldn't be able to do that. It should shut down or self-destruct."

His tone was flat, dismissive. "I already said I'm familiar with Spectres and their tech. I know a few tricks. Looks like they are applicable to your version of that tech, too." He flicked one mandible as if tasting something disagreeable. "Your story is ridiculous enough, but if this was planned as a deception you'd at least try to get your facts straight. You have already proven that you're not stupid. You probably are crazy, but you're honest and you mean well. I might share your view about this conflict." With a shake of his head, he asked. "Do you think this will be enough?"

She leaned forward wearily. "I don't know. They will come, but I don't know if we have the time. Because my side is coming in next, with a hell of a lot more force than anyone expects, and the Second Fleet will kick your people off-world."

"That's enough, you damned traitor." It wasn't Saren's voice, but for the venom it held it might just as well have been. Julia came through the door, wearing an Alliance hardsuit, assault rifle trained on the both of them. "You damned lying bitch. You said you were going to radio for help."

Shepard shook her head. "I was. Julia, this needs to end."

"Oh, I agree. It will." The young woman's voice was livid with hate. "You should know better. You know what they did, what they do to us when they catch us. Where do you think this armour comes from? I took it off a soldier they apparently decided they didn't want to keep around. I saw what was left of her. How can you even think of taking their side?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side. I just want this to stop. There is no winner in this."

"How can you even say that? After what they did to you?"

Shepard blinked, puzzled. "To me?" She threw the commander a quick glance. "They roughed me up a bit, but -"

"You think I didn't see the claw marks on you? You obviously didn't want to talk about it, and I understand that. They're nothing but animals."

Shepard resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands, because if this hadn't been so serious this would have been really, really absurd.

The turian looked at her sideways, and his mandibles twitched. The sound he gave was almost a snicker, and if he was in any way disturbed by being threatened by the young soldier, he showed none of it. His voice only held amusement. "Ah. I wasn't misreading that part, then."

Shepard knew she was blushing, which was downright ridiculous especially when faced with an already irritable, irrational young soldier, who already had decided that she was a traitor. She couldn't keep silent, though.  
>"No, you got that wrong. They don't do that."<p>

She could see from her face as Julia caught on. "You...you...you let them..." She didn't seem to be able even to find the words.

Shepard thought wearily that after facing down one and a half Reaper, being resurrected once by her enemies and returning from the mass relay no one ever had returned from, it was a bit anticlimactic to finally meet her end at the hands of a half-hysteric young Alliance marine who objected to her choice of partner, but maybe that was just a case of Fate showing irony.

Julia was too focused on Shepard, and the turian moved fast as a snake. He charged, knocking her gun aside with enough force to stun her hands, then just gripped her wrists. "We've already been through this once," he said calmly. "Do we really need to repeat that?"

The young marine grimaced, but wasn't strong enough to rip free. "So that was you who knocked me out. Can't say I can tell you ugly bastards apart."  
>He sneered, and Julia promptly head-butted him. Shepard winced in sympathy at the cracking sound, knowing from her own experience that that sort of manoeuvre usually hurt the human more than the turian.<p>

The blow made him rear back his head, but not release her.  
>Julia flinched as he snarled at her, a fresh bruise already forming on her head, but there still was more anger than fear in her demeanour as she snarled right back.<p>

"Stop it," he hissed. "And if we're talking about atrocities here, I have seen what you people did to mine, too. Science, was it? We at least never dissected one of you while still alive."

"No," Julia snapped. "You just killed defenceless civilians, women, children. And made examples of the ones that resisted. You killed my whole squad, you damned monsters."

"You're both right," Shepard said wearily. "And my side was maybe a bit worse. First contact with an alien race, and one that looks like your sort, and attacked on sight...of course you were taken for monsters. All of us know what fear does to people."  
>She sighed. "This has to end here. And we need more time."<br>She looked at Julia, who had gone still in the turian's grip, still facing the two of them defiantly. "You are a comm officer. You know the current codes. You can send out a message to our fleet. Warn them of an ambush, delay them."

"If you think I'd do that you must be out of your alien-screwing, perverted mind." She glared at Shepard. "Let them burn, all of them. I don't care. We can win this one. We can wipe them from this world."

Shepard just shook her head. "Then what? This is going to turn into a full-scale war, you know. We're good at war, but so are they, and they have a lot more ships and colonies. Oh, we can fight them on each and every world from here back to Earth, and give them a fight for their money, but in the end we'd lose. Do you really want Earth turned into something like this? Do you want what happened to our colonists here happen to all of our civilians?" She paused. "I know I don't." Nothing changed in Julia's expression. "And if I don't do what you say, you'll let him persuade me, is that it?"

The turian growled, but Shepard snapped "No. I won't. I will not do anything to you."  
>She meant it. There were situations where use of force was required and appropriate, but this wasn't one of those. And threatening the young soldier wouldn't help, anyway. Julia was already half-mad with grief for her lost friends. Threatening her would only make her snap, not secure her help in any way.<p>

All she could do was try to persuade. It wasn't the first time by far that she had to talk sense into someone and persuade them to do something they really didn't want to do, but this might very well be one of the times where whether she was successful or not had the biggest consequences.  
>Shepard closed her eyes, opened them again and forced herself to be calm. "This will end one way or another, once the Council gets their off their collective arses. The only question is how many on both sides need to die until then. I don't ask you to help luring the Fleet into a trap, or otherwise harming them. They are my people, too, you know. I just want them delayed. They will come down on this world like a ton of bricks, and they will retake Shanxi, very briefly. And the turians will retaliate, of course, and if they do that before the Council intervenes, a lot more will die on all sides. Right now casualties are limited to this sector. Do nothing, and chances are the outcome will be much worse."<br>She shook her head. "I can't force you to help. If you don't, you will have to live with the consequences of knowing that you could have limited the loss of lives and chosen not to."

The girl scoffed, but Shepard shook her head again. "Take it from me. Regret is a heavy burden to carry for a whole life."

"So you'll have me turn traitor for this?"

"No more than I already am," the turian said, unexpectedly, and there was resignation in his voice.

"My squad..." Julia said softly, but something in her stance had changed. "My friends..."

Shepard didn't bother to keep the weariness out of her voice. "Revenge is a very short-lived pleasure. It won't bring your squad back to life, and it won't make you sleep any better at night. You probably won't believe me there, but it's true nevertheless."

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that this is the best way out of all of this? The right thing?"

Shepard didn't hesitate. "It's the best way I can see. And I believe it is the right thing to do."

She met the marine's eyes, and Julia looked away first.

"Oh, damn it. Damn you all." Her voice broke in a badly suppressed sob. Then she visibly controlled herself, replacing grief with anger. She threw her had up angrily, staring at the turian. "Get your damned claws off me." She tore free of the turian's grip, and he didn't try to hold her, although he kept his grip on her rifle and trained it on her as she moved away.  
>She didn't seem to care as she walked over to the console. The different interface gave her a moment's trouble, but she adjusted quickly, her movements jerky and clipped as her fingers roved over the controls. Shepard didn't even bother to read what precisely she was writing. There was nothing Julia could do to make this worse.<p>

Julia hit the controls with more force than necessary, then turned towards Shepard. "There. I warned them of a hidden minefield and a possible ambush on the direct way here. Won't keep them long, but Admiral Drescher's known for being cautious, and he's bound to send scouts ahead to check this out before proceeding. They'll know it was me, of course. Code's personalised. I hope you are happy now, that you made me a traitor, too."  
>Shepard drew breath for a reply, but the marine cut her off.<br>"No. Don't thank me. Not for this."  
>She looked resigned, and just as weary as Shepard, as she gave the turian a flat look.<br>"You going to shoot me now?"

The turian snorted as he lowered the rifle and set it aside. "I had you at gunpoint while you were sending this message." he pointed out. "Be sure to include that in your report."

Julia's eyes widened, as she caught his meaning, then she shook her head. "No. Not going to take that out. Not going to lie. I have to take responsibility for my decision."

"Honourable but stupid," he muttered, and she gave him an angry look. "So what excuse are you going to use for what you did, then?"

"Didn't say I wasn't stupid as well," he retorted, then looked at Shepard. "Well, then. What else do you need me to do?"

Shepard blinked. "You changed your mind about believing what I told you?"

He shrugged. "You act like a Spectre is supposed to, by not automatically taking your species side but acting in the interest of the galactic community. This has to be enough for me." Abruptly, he turned his back on her and went to check on Saren.  
>He growled. "He'll be out for some time yet." With a slight shake of his head, he looked up again, and caught Shepard's look at Saren.<p>

She tried to let her expression go blank, but she wasn't sure that it helped any.

"You know him." It wasn't a question.

She didn't answer. She had already changed things, if indeed the past could be changed like this. She could make another, very important change. Saren wasn't a Spectre now, just another common soldier, and he was already down. It wouldn't take much to make that permanent.  
>She could take Julia's weapon and remove this threat once and for all. Maybe the turian commander would stop her, but even so, it would be worth it. So many wouldn't have to die because of Saren's actions.<p>

And yet.  
>As much damage as Saren had done, it had at least gotten her a heads-up on the Reaper problem. Without all of that, no one would ever have noticed the dormant ancient dreadnought in some out-of-the way system, far from the centre of galactic life. Sovereign would have found someone else to help it, maybe someone more capable and less obvious. Saren had fought the Reaper's indoctrination, which had made him less efficient in the end. There was no guarantee that whoever the Reaper recruited in his stead would do the same.<br>There was the option to strike at the Reaper here and now, of course, but she didn't even know the exact location of the system, and she had no ship, no allies and no authority here and now. The Council didn't believe her as things were, and back in her own time she was a Spectre and proven war hero. She could well imagine their reaction if she tried to convince them of that threat here and now, as somebody they didn't know, someone with no past, no military record, and of a species they hadn't even heard of yet.  
>Besides, like it or not, Saren had been a very successful Spectre. He'd been ruthless, and with no regard for anyone's life, certainly, but he had done what was necessary to keep the galaxy as a whole safe. She wasn't too familiar with his service record, but even so she knew that he had stopped some very unpleasant plots with a lot of damage potential. As much as she would have liked to believe, he hadn't always been a traitor and a threat. He'd done the same work that she was doing now, at the same level, where a mistake spelled the loss of many lives.<br>If she took him out now, in the end things might very well turn out much worse, the body count much higher.

No, she couldn't take that risk, as tempting as it was.  
>She didn't quite grind her teeth, but it was an effort. "No, I don't. I have the feeling I will, some day." was all she said. "What about your face?"<p>

If the apparent change of topic threw him, he showed none of it as he rubbed his torn cheekplate, seeming almost puzzled by the blood that stuck to his fingers. "That young idiot has reinforced claws with hidden blades. Definitely against regulations, but he's some general's little brother, so a reprimand won't do much good. Can't blame him for defending himself, though."  
>He shrugged, then said in a calm tone. "I can get you out of here, and I can get you some sort of transportation. After that, you're on your own."<p>

Shepard hesitated, then nodded at Julia. "She'll go. I can't leave." She didn't elaborate.

He snarled, annoyed, and she met his eyes and just said. "I gave a promise."

"Are you completely out of your mind?" When she refused to be stared down, he shook his head in exasperation. "You're making this even more difficult for me. Very well. Stay here, give me a few moments." He tossed the rifle at Shepard who caught it in reflex. "Try to keep quiet. Don't shoot any of my men if you can help it." He didn't wait for their reply, but stalked out of the comm room.

Shepard hesitated, then went over to Saren. He was obviously unconscious and no threat to her at the moment, but she still was uneasy as she dragged him over to where the guard was lying. She gave him two of his tranq patches, just to make sure he stayed that way, though. Just a precaution.

Julia threw Shepard a quick look. "And you are refusing to leave why, precisely?"

Shepard shook her head. "Came here with a partner. Won't leave without him."

The young marine drew breath to ask further, then bit her lips. "He's one of their sort, too, isn't he."

Shepard just nodded.

"The one who...tore up your back?"

"Accident. My own fault, mostly," Shepard murmured, in a tone that hopefully deflected any further questions on this topic.  
>Then she shook her head, irritated. "You got the wrong idea there. He's my friend, my squad mate, and the person I trust most in this whole screwed up universe. He just happens to be a turian. And what else we might or might not be, I'm his commanding officer. He's been injured on a mission I took him on, and there's no way in hell I'm going to run and leave him here." She bit down on any other things she might have said, then growled "Forget it. I'm not going to explain. I'll see to it that you'll get out of this mess, too."<p>

Julia frowned. "That commander just left us here, with a weapon. Why is he doing this?"

Shepard snorted again. "He's being sensible, and trying to make decisions for the greater good as opposed to the immediate future for himself. Some humans might take a page from that book."  
>She was saved from any further explanation when there was movement at the door, and she spun around and aimed the rifle before realising that it was their temporary ally. He had at least done some damage control to the injuries on the right side of his face, because she could see no fresh blood on him anymore, but the deep gouges were still quite visible.<br>He ignored the weapon that had been aimed at him, and tossed a set of handcuffs at Shepard and another at Julia.

Shepard raised an eyebrow.

He snorted. "I have to escort you through my damned camp here. Doing that alone is improbable enough, but most of my men tend to underestimate your sort, so I can get away with a bit of stupid arrogance on my side. However, dragging the both of you along unsecured is pushing the boundaries of belief a bit much, wouldn't you agree?"

Shepard grimaced, but had to agree. She cocked her head to one side, silently questioning, and he snorted again, a sound of bitter amusement. "I give my word. I'm not trying to trick you."

She nodded, tossed him the rifle and with only a flicker of paranoia fastened the restraints around her wrists. She didn't properly lock them, and left the small kinetic field inert as well, and he nodded.

"Oh, no." Julia snapped as the turian turned towards her. "I'm not that stupid."

Before Shepard could say anything, he gave a low, angry snarl and was suddenly standing right in front of Julia, staring down on her with a rigid, cold expression.  
>And again, something was familiar about him. The marine tossed her head back, glaring at him defiantly, but Shepard could tell that a lot of that was simply nerves. She was putting up a brave facade, but she was terrified.<br>The turian's voice was almost amused. "I really hope you're not stupid, because that's the only chance you have. I gave my word, you fool." He closed his claws over her wrists, and she flinched as he slipped on her cuffs. "I'm not even going to lock them. You probably are no idiot, so stop acting the part. "

Julia snarled, stung by his words, fear replaced by anger, and Shepard had the strange feeling that that had been his intention. He snorted again, letting go of Julia's wrists, and Shepard simply knew that she had seen him before.  
>Then she took another look at the Julia, at both of them, and almost did a double-take. Surely there was more than one dark-faced turian with scars down his face, more than one blond marine with fierce blue eyes and a resolute, fiery temper to match. Her name was different, and so were his markings, so they couldn't be the pair of C-sec cops she'd met on the Citadel just a few weeks back. Could they?<br>He turned his head to look at her, and these yellow eyes were familiar.

"She can't know what you mean by that." she cut in, trying to keep the peace. "Julia, he's given his word. That means a lot more than with most humans. He will not break it." Then she gave in to curiosity and looked at him enquiringly. "By the way. What is your name?" He shook his head. "None. With what I already did and am going to do yet, I lost all claim to that." He tossed his head impatiently. "And you're wasting time. So we're going to pick up your partner, and then you are to get out of my base and my life as quickly as possible." He turned back to Julia, took her shoulder none too gently and pushed her forwards. Shepard nodded, allowing him to do the same to her as he led them from the comm room. "My partner. How is he?"

A snort came from behind her. "You can judge that for yourself."


	6. Chapter 6

The commander marched the two of them through the small camp, and while there were some curious looks cast their way, none of the soldiers seemed to be able to work up their nerve sufficiently to question their superior's behaviour.  
>If anything, the commander seemed vaguely annoyed by that.<br>He pushed them towards the container building that had been designated as a medical centre. Apparently the turians had just kept it that way.  
>The doors were secured, of course, and there were some guards, but Shepard had eyes only for the haggard-looking turian sitting on the bed in the small room, still clad in his underarmour, looking quite the worse for wear, but very much alive.<br>Garrus looked up at them, and his gaze sharpened, as he took in her appearance.  
>Shepard did her best not to react, trusting that he could take his cue from that.<p>

He showed no reaction at all as the commander pushed her forward and to the side rather carelessly.

"He still won't even give his name and rank," one of the guards commented, his tone contemptuous.  
>"Not surprising. Stand down." The commander's tone was one of strained patience. "It would appear we have a Council Spectre at our hands here." His grin and tone became definitely nasty. "So I hope for your own sakes that you were as professional and courteous in interrogating him as I ordered you to be."<p>

The soldiers exchanged quick uneasy looks, but relaxed their stance like the well-trained personnel they were.

"Get his gear. And while you're at it, get the equipment we confiscated from the second prisoner here as well. Presumably someone will be interested in the tech," the commander snapped at one of them, and the man scrambled to obey. "You might have said something." he addressed Garrus in a dry voice.

"I was under orders not to," Garrus replied evenly. Something changed in his stance, a calm, confident, a bit superior air in the manner he held himself, and Shepard thought with a flash of insight that right now she was looking at Archangel, not the Garrus she knew. He had that calm, competent attitude that others instinctively responded to, especially turians. He just didn't use it when she was close, deferring to her lead and supporting her decisions. This now was a side of him she'd known about but never really seen until now, and she was intrigued despite the situation.

"Evidently." The commander shrugged. "Well, apparently the Council is taking interest in this minor matter, for reasons that I cannot quite fathom." His gaze passed over Shepard and Julia without much interest. "I assume you will be taking charge of these to here. I will, of course, provide you with all the support you require."

Garrus just nodded, getting to his feet.  
>The soldier returned, carrying both her and Garrus' armour and weapons, and dropped the pile on the bed, keeping a respectful distance to the other turian that Shepard found rather telling.<br>Garrus ignored him as he put on his armour with brisk efficiency. With his weapons strapped on to his satisfaction, he finally regarded the commander calmly. "I will require loan of one of your vehicles."

The commander nodded, tone cool and professional. "Of course. If you would follow me."

The two guards came along unbidden as they made their way to the small, rough airfield, one of them still carrying her gear, and Shepard didn't have to feign her rising apprehension. The soldier beside her sneered and shoved her forward as she hesitated for a moment at the sight of the small shuttle.  
>Julia seemed close to the end of her nerves as well, if her expression was anything to go by.<br>The soldiers had them load into the shuttle, but didn't follow them inside. Garrus was climbing into the hatch behind them, accepting the pack of Shepard's equipment from the soldier and carelessly stashing it away to the side of the hatch.

The commander suddenly said casually "We're short staffed at the moment, so I'm afraid I can't spare you any crew at the moment. You'll have to pilot yourself."

Shepard's eyes widened as she looked back at the commander, but he didn't even look at her. Garrus, as ever sensitive to her, looked at her sharply.  
>The soldiers were still too close by for her to speak, but she made sure he was watching her, then looked at the commander, then at the cockpit.<br>Garrus twitched his mandibles in vague surprise, but turned back. "No," he said. "I cannot guarantee that my pickup will be able to return it, and I'm not risking leaving the shuttle unattended. Besides, I might have further orders for you, and for your ears only. You'll have to come along."

The dark-faced turian stiffened, clearly surprised, then growled, shook his head in annoyance, but gave in. "Very well." He turned back to his soldiers. "You're dismissed. Return to your posts."  
>They didn't seem too surprised as the commander climbed into the shuttle behind Garrus.<p>

As soon he had closed the hatch, he turned towards Shepard. "What the hell do you think you are doing, human?" His voice was quiet but downright furious.

"Trying to fix things." she snapped back, stress making her reply sharper than her normal tone, then she ignored him for the moment. "You all right?" she asked Garrus.

"I'm fine." He gave their two passengers a quick look. "Why did you want him along?" he asked.

"I'll explain later," she said quickly. "Can you get us out of here?"

"Of course." She smiled at him, and he flared his mandibles in a quick grin, then took his seat in the cockpit.

As the engines started up, she breathed a sigh of cautious relief and tugged off the unnerving hand cuffs, tossing them aside as she reached for her gear. She was back in her armour in what she suspected was record time, then went forward to join Garrus in the cockpit.

She laid a hand on his arm, briefly. He didn't look at her, but his other hand lifted, and his fingers closed over hers, just for a moment, then he turned his full attention back to the controls.

"I'm really fine," he said. "They fixed me up before they even started interrogating me." He almost ducked his head. "I know they used me to try and make you talk. Tried to tell you that I'd be fine, but couldn't get out the words. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I wasn't thinking clearly, and you were drugged to the gills, weren't you?" At his nod, she grimaced. "Sneaky bastard, that commander. He wanted to see my reaction. Well, he got that, and more."

Garrus didn't reply immediately, instead taking the shuttle further up, taking a course roughly towards the location where they had first arrived on Shanxi. He programmed the shuttle's scanners, then let the autopilot take over for the moment.  
>He finally looked at her. "Now tell me why suddenly I'm the Spectre and we officially got loan of a shuttle from the people who tried to shoot us?"<p>

Shepard sighed. "That commander, he figured out something was wrong. Not sure whether he believes it, but he decided helped. I sent a message to the Council. All of this should be over in a matter of days, I hope."

"So much for keeping a low profile." Garrus sounded wryly amused.

"I couldn't. I couldn't stand by and watch."

"I would never expect you to," he replied calmly. "You're not someone to stand on the sidelines and watch. You fix things. It's what you are, whatever the time or place." Something in that calm assertion made her shoulders slump with relief.

"I suppose it is. Don't know whether it was the right thing to do, but I had to."  
>"Those two," Garrus said with a shake of his head indicating the back of the shuttle. "Why bring them?"<p>

"They helped me, both of them, and ruined their careers and maybe their lives for it. What they was necessary to end this, but they'll be both be considered traitors by their respective military. They deserve at least a chance to make an escape. I owe them at least that much." She was reluctant to say anything more on the subject.

Garrus just nodded, not asking for further details at the moment. He kept his attention on the scanners, as did she.

They passed over their original landing spot, and there was nothing abnormal on the instruments. Shepard bit her lips, refusing to admit being disappointed. "Leave the scanners on, go in a spiral pattern outwards from here. Maybe it just has drifted."  
>Or maybe it had been an one-time spike.<br>She ground her teeth. They would find a way out of this mess. Eventually. She'd accept no other outcome.

A warning sound from the sensors made her heart-rate jump, and she leaned forward to have a look. The reading made no sense. It indicated some sort of energy emission, but no discernible mass behind it, a shape without any depth to it, and under any normal circumstances she'd have attributed that reading to a damaged sensor and ignored it.  
>Now, her hopes hinged on it. A few taps on the controls brought up a rather crude holographic representation of it. Of irregular shape, it hovered close to the surface, and reminded her of a ribbon of fabric more than anything else. The readings said it was rather small, maybe three meters at its highest point, stretching for about eight meters. "What do you think?" she asked Garrus.<p>

He shrugged. "An anomaly, all right, and it's moving very slowly. Whether it's our lift home, a malfunction of the sensors or something else entirely...who can say?"

They observed the projection for a few long moments. Garrus had been right, she thought. It was drifting slowly, and more slowly folding, merging into itself.  
>"It's getting smaller, too, isn't it?" A few more hasty calculations on the limited shuttle VI confirmed that fact. "Whatever it is, it's shrinking. I don't think we have time for much more study."<br>Shepard regarded the impossible shape again. Not a ribbon, she thought. A tear. A rip in reality. And it was closing up. Fixing itself.  
>She sighed. "Let's take a closer look. Can you take us down somewhere here?"<p>

"I'll try." He sounded worried. "I think we should keep the shuttle well away from it, just to be sure."

"I agree." She didn't really want to consider what would happen if they hit the anomaly with the small ship, but the end results of that couldn't be good. "Not too far, though. I don't want it to disappear on us again."

The shuttle touched down, and as soon as the engines had shut down, Shepard went back to the hatch to open it. Then she hesitated, looking at their two passengers.  
>Julia seemed calm enough, but the turian glared at her, his mandibles drawn in tight. Before she could get out of the shuttle, he blocked her way.<p>

"Why did you force me to come with you?" he demanded.

She gave him a look. "Because you aren't going to stand trial for helping me."

His expression was cold and angry. "I wasn't going to."

Shepard nodded. "I know. I'd reckon you were going to kill yourself before it came to that, rather than facing a trial and dishonour. I'm not having you do that." He didn't reply, but she saw Julia start at that out of the corner of her eyes. "Sorry, but I still need your help. And you're not going to like it."

He snarled. "I already got you and your companion free. What more can you ask of me?"

Shepard nodded her head in Julia's direction. "She's in the same situation as you are. If the true story of this comes out, you'll be both considered traitors. You both need to drop out of sight for a while, until this madness is resolved, and your involvement in it cannot be known. I can't help you. I wish it were otherwise, but I can't, and I can't take you both back with me once we find our transport back. I need you to protect her until it's safe for the both of you to return."

His mandibles flared wide. "You cannot possibly be serious."

"Don't worry about me." Julia cut in. She patted her armour. "I've got the ID of this set's previous owner." She tugged a small ID tag from the armour's collar and gave it a cursory look. "'Fisher, I.'" she read aloud, and Shepard flinched. Julia didn't notice it, busy with replacing the tag. "Wonder what the 'I' stands for. Well, as names go, it could be worse." she said. "I can be that, for a while. I'll be fine."

"No." Shepard said softly. "I don't think you can make it alone."

The newly named Fisher snorted. "I don't need a damned dinosaur to babysit me."

The commander was regarding Shepard with narrowed eyes. There was no discernible emotion in his expression. Shepard would have preferred him to be angry. "You can't order me to do that." he said, his tone calm but firm. "Even your authority as a Spectre doesn't reach that far."

Shepard bit her lips. She was almost sure now that she knew who they were and where they had to be in a few decades, but she could hardly tell him that.

The turian sighed at her silence. "Give me some credit here." he said in a low voice. "I'm not completely unobservant. You reacted to something I said or did when I came back for you to the comm centre, and you just now had another reaction to whatever your fellow soldier here just said. You recognised the both of us, or thought you did." Shepard looked at him squarely, then slightly bowed her head in acknowledgement. Her voice was just as low. "The turian that I think might be you had different markings and went by a different name. And I'm trying very hard not to make a mistake here."

He considered, glancing over at the human soldier who was standing with her back to them, staring out of the hatch and pointedly ignoring everything else. "Describe the markings."

She wondered briefly how to do that, then just went on a hunch. "Were you on the Citadel in the last couple of years?"

"Actually, quite a lot." He sounded vaguely amused. "The ship I was assigned to until lately did escort duty for high level officials transferring to and from the Citadel. As in, guarding luxury liners carrying diplomats and their staff from being attacked by pirates, political criminals or random people holding grudges against them. That sort of work comes with a lot of downtime on the Citadel."

She continued. "Do you know a C-sec officer named Pallin? He should be making his way up the ranks by now."

"I've met him." There was a trace of distaste in his voice. "A good little bureaucrat with little imagination and a high opinion of himself." He blinked. "Those markings?"

"Yes."

"But why would I ever-" He seemed thoughtful for a moment, then his mandibles splayed into a wry grin. "Ah. This may make some sense to me, after all." He cocked his head to one side, curious. "Can you at least give me a reason for your request?"

"I can only say that it's important." She hesitated for a moment, then added "Professionally and personally. I owe the both of you for this. It may be that I'll come to owe you even more. I can't tell you any more."

"Hmmm." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then leaned closer to her, as if searching her face for something. She had no idea what he was looking for, or whether he found it, but he already was lifting his head again with a sigh. "Reason says you're either insane or lying, but if you're lying, then I can't see it. And you know things you really shouldn't know. I'm probably insane too, for even listening to you. But it hardly matters any more, for me. Very well. I'll accept this insane assignment for now and will try to keep your soldier there alive on the way out of here. I'm not promising anything beyond that."

Shepard didn't try to hide her relief. "Thank you."

She turned to see Garrus make his way out of the cockpit. He gave the turian command a quick look, then focused on her. "Not much time left, I think. We should get going."

Shepard nodded. "Good luck." she told the turian, who just nodded evenly.

Garrus pushed past the human soldier, who shrank back from him, watching him with apprehension, and swung himself out of the hatch. Shepard was close behind him, but she stopped at the hatch, giving the young woman a quick look. "I'm sorry for involving you. But asking him to look out for you for a while is the best I can do. And he will help you, if you let him." There was no reply, but Fisher's look was more thoughtful than hostile. Shepard shrugged. "Be safe. And get the hell out of here."  
>Without waiting for an answer to that, she got herself out of the shuttle.<br>She didn't look back.

# # #

It was just a short walk through uneven terrain, and they reached the place the shuttle's sensors had indicated in a matter of minutes.  
>Just as she had suspected, there was no visual clue to what lay ahead. It was just an unremarkable bit of open field, one of many breaks in the largely forested area.<br>There was nothing that the scanners on her hardsuit could detect, either. With a frown, Shepard looked around, then located a small, flat stone on the ground. She picked it up, hefted it thoughtfully in her hand for a second, then tossed it in the direction of the suspected anomaly.  
>She could see it cross the air, and then disappear in mid-air before even reaching the highest point of the arc its course was describing.<br>She waited for a few beats, but the small stone didn't reappear.

"Something's there all right," Garrus commented.

She threw him a quick look, but all she could tell from his stance was mild apprehension. He was too smart not to know that this was just as risky as the Omega-4 relay had been. It might kill them outright, or send them to some much worse place.  
>Or it might send them where they belonged.<br>There was no way to tell, and no time and no resources to study the anomaly to gain any certainty.

"I'd risk it." Garrus met her eyes calmly.

She nodded. "Me, too. This isn't where we belong."

"Well." She eyed the area ahead dubiously. "Leap of faith it is. See you on the other side, Garrus." He smiled, and together they stepped forward.

There was a moment of blankness, something her senses couldn't really interpret, and then there was pure chaos around her as crew members around her according to character shouted, cursed or prayed, metal screamed under heavy tension, and even the AI sounded less than calm as the Normandy raced for the relay.  
>Joker was hanging on to the controls, directing a steady stream of encouragements and pleas at the ship.<br>Reflexively she clung to the door frame as the ship bucked like an unruly horse. She shook her head, trying to clear that strange hallucination she'd just had from her mind. At another violent shake of the ship she almost lost her footing as her left boot almost slipped on a small flat stone that had somehow gotten underfoot.  
>She kicked at it, staring, then remembering.<br>Oh, hell. Not a hallucination.  
>Shepard turned her head and met Garrus' gaze on her, saw his slight nod. She tried to give him an encouraging smile, but the relay caught them just as the shock wave hit, and all of them went flying in a tangle.<br>Maybe she blacked out for a moment, because the next thing she was ware of was that she was lying on the floor, Tali's rather negligible weight on her, and somebody's toes in her ribs. Judging by the boots she suspected it was Samara.  
>That could have gone worse, too.<p>

The Normandy's flight had evened out, and she didn't need EDI's confirmation to know they were back. Shepard smiled as the weary cheers sounded out all around her.  
>They had made it.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

It was only hours later, although it felt like days to Shepard when she finally was able to return to her quarters. The Normandy was limping along at a sedate pace on a course that would take them to the Citadel in a few day's time, and while the ship was badly damaged, EDI was optimistic that they'd make it back into dock just fine.  
>For the moment, she had done all that she could do.<br>She stumbled along to her quarters, exhaustion finally setting in. She didn't even bother turning on the lights, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of the fish tank.

The bed looked very inviting, but her terminal reminded her that there still was so much to be done. Maybe she'd better get some more messages out, plan ahead, make absolutely sure supplies and repair crews were waiting for them once they reached dock.  
>Shepard was almost at her desk she realised that someone else was present. Sudden alarm was replaced by relief as her tired mind resolved the shape on the couch into the familiar form of Garrus.<br>"Hey." she called out to him.

He came over, his glance sharp as he took in her state. "Don't worry, there's no emergency. I'm just here to make sure you don't continue working from here. You really need rest."

She hesitated, touched by his concern, and admitted to herself that his worry wasn't entirely unfounded. And she was too tired to argue at the presumption. She stripped out of her uniform down to her underwear with no second thought about it, then slipped under the covers, aware that Garrus was watching with a certain smugness at her acquiescence.  
>"Pleasant dreams." he said, amused, and she blinked. No. That wouldn't do.<br>"Stay? Please?"

He grew still for a moment, surprise on his face, that was quickly replaced by a softer expression. "You sure about that? Because I think Miranda saw me coming up here."

Shepard shrugged. "I'd not be surprised if most of them know, or suspect. I don't care. Do you?"

He shook his head.

"Good. I'm not going to hide. Anyone who has a problem with who I'm with can take it up with me personally. I'll take pleasure in telling them to go hang in the most unambiguous way possible. And if they are enough of a bother about it I might use the Cain to bring the point across. Now, stay?"

He gave no verbal reply, but lowered himself down to the bed on her side, arranging himself carefully to find a position that was both reasonably comfortable for him and still allowed her to lean against him without being stabbed by any sharp edges and points on his plates.  
>It was slightly awkward, and not completely successful as she winced from the narrow ridge of his keel-bone, but she had to laugh at it, and heard his amused rumble in reply. Not yet perfect, but she had the feeling they both would learn their way around that, soon. She relaxed, feeling his breath against her neck, and her last conscious thought was that this, at least, was right.<p>

# # #

Shepard woke in a way that was completely new but very pleasant: with a turian curled up around her, his hand on her hip, his mouth against her shoulder. With a smile, she decided she could get used to this very quickly.  
>She wondered whether he was still asleep, but when he shifted his hand up to stroke her waist, that question was answered. She leaned back into him, stretching contently as his fingers trailed again down the curve of her hip.<br>"Don't start anything you don't intend to finish." she warned him with a chuckle.

"Now that's insulting." he rumbled, amusement heavy in his voice. "I do have an assignment from you, remember?"

She did. "You were to show off what your research into interspecies relations yielded."

He growled, his fingers trailing over her thigh. "So you said. Would now be a good time for that evaluation?"

Shepard laughed. "I think it's a perfect time." She turned around to face him. "Show me what you have learned. You're in charge."

He went still, surprise clear in the way his mandibles twitched, and she knew that she had hit on something cultural there. "Are you sure about that?" There was a sudden intensity in his tone. "Because that's not something I can do half-way."

Shepard frowned slightly. "Is this an unusual request for you?" She was well aware that he did regard her as the dominant partner in this relationship they had, and from what she knew about turian customs, their rules about rank reached into private live as well and were much stricter. There was the distinct possibility that the rather casual offer to relinquish that control was something insulting or inappropriate.

"No, not unusual." His mandibles twitched again as he struggled to explain. "Just something that is only done in an established relationship, between permanent partners. That only works between equals, and needs a lot of trust on both sides."

With a smile, she traced the blue marking on his cheekplate with a thumb, and his breath hitched. She might not be familiar yet with all his reactions in this context, but she could read that well enough. He wanted that, very badly, more than she would have suspected. Then, with a flash of insight, she realised that he didn't want it because of some dominance issue - that would have been a human motive - but because for him it was symbolic, a mechanism of bonding. It held more meaning to him than even simply a display of trust.  
>The sensible way would have been to establish at least some ground rules, because they weren't used yet to each others needs and limits. She chose to not be sensible in this instance, because this was about trust, not reason.<br>"No one in this galaxy that I trust more than you." she said by way of reply.

Something darkened in his eyes, and then she suddenly was under him, as he leaned over her, cradling her face in a hand. "Then relax, and let me learn how to touch you."

It was different this time, she thought. This wasn't a quick, mostly desperate act before a mission that was likely to kill them, or the animal need mixed with loneliness and shock they'd shared on Shanxi. This time, they had time. This would be for real, for the two of them.

His tongue trailed over the side of her neck, the texture rougher than a human's, and she sighed, letting her head fall back. His hand found her breast, caressing a nipple in a slow stroke of thumb as his tongue trailed down over her collarbone.  
>Pleasure flooded her, running like liquid heat over her nerve endings, and she reached for the back of his neck to draw him close, but he growled, the lick turning into a nip over her collarbone. She gave a startled sound, both surprised at the nip and the fact that it was strangely pleasant.<p>

He lifted his head briefly to look at her, his eyes intense, but with an unmistakable glint of humour.  
>"I said relax. Enjoy. Don't worry about me now. There's no need to rush any of this."<p>

She was minded to disagree, but then his tongue curled around one nipple, and she forgot her objection. Prehensile tongue, a distant part of her mind supplied. Maybe it was just some evolutionary adaptation to make up for the lack of mobility of their lipless mouths.

He wasn't awkward now, not at all, and that once again made it clear to her that all his nervousness about this part of their interaction that he had shown before the Omega 4 relay had been simply a mixture of worry at ruining things if he made a mistake, and a lack of rules and definition for whatever was between them. It was just what he was, the way he was wired, and as much as he might refer to himself as a bad turian, he still was turian enough to require the stability of a formal framework of rules that defined the nature of their relationship. He had needed to know where they stood, needed to know his place in all of this. The wait-and-see attitude humans so often applied to relationships didn't work well with a turian, and as far as she could tell they weren't used to having to resort to talking about these specifics as humans did. Even in their private lives, they were much more formal, with specific gestures that had distinct meanings in this context, instinctive ritualised courtship behaviour intended to make certain both partners were in agreement and in sync. She had learned some of these gestures, and it had been enough to reassure him and let him know that the feeling was mutual and that it was anything but casual.  
>He knew now, and right now they were playing by his rules. Therefore he had no reason to doubt himself, or her.<p>

He was clearly experimenting, trying out different strokes and variance in pressure, and that methodical enthusiasm made her smile. And he was just as single-minded and precise in his exploration of her as he was in combat, or in familiarising himself with a new piece of tech or weaponry. Even if he was impulsive sometimes, he never came into any fight or tense situation without being prepared. He would have read the manual, done the research, and this now would be him in the process of fine-tuning the parameters. It was so completely like him that she chuckled. For a fraction of a second she worried about that, because he might take that wrong and as some sort of slight, but the good-natured rumble she got in response reassured her that the wordless understanding they so often had between them both in combat and out of it extended to this as well.

Then he seemed to decide that he didn't want her attention straying like that and grazed his teeth over her the sensitive skin of her breast, and that made her shiver with pleasure.  
>Quick strokes of his tongue seemed to sample the taste of her skin, and she was almost certain he could taste her arousal from that as well. If the deep sound that was a mix of growl and purr that he made was anything to go by, he fully approved. He rubbed his plated cheek against her left side, just under her ribs, an almost feline move, slid his hand over the curve of her hip and the side of her thigh, and the slow burn of desire flared up into full, raging heat as her hips instinctively rose to meet his touch.<br>She whimpered as he shifted his grip to the inner side of her thigh, then tasted the skin on her other thigh with a quick flick of his tongue. It felt good, very good, but not enough at the moment, because as much as she had intended for them to take their time, it was too slow. She needed more of his touch than that. She didn't quite squirm, but he noted it anyway, and his chuckle was both amused and turned on.

"I see. Let me try this, then."

There was no time to ask what he had in mind, and no need to, as he dipped his head between her legs and licked against her, his tongue parting her folds. The pure shock of that contact made her jolt, drawing a long groan from her, and it was exactly what she wanted, needed. Another slow stroke of his tongue, and she tensed, close to the brink already.  
>The thought of that cut through the pleasure and she regained some sense. No, that was almost embarrassingly fast, and not how this was intended to be. Her hands fisted in the sheet as she fought for control, closing her eyes in an effort to regain some small measure of composure, and watching him do that to her certainly didn't help in that regard.<br>Still she moaned in instinctive protest as he suddenly stopped.

"No," he said, his tone almost fierce. She was too far gone to try and lift her head to see him, but she knew from the tone that he was serious. "Don't hold back. Don't. I need to see you."

She was still trying to process his words when his tongue was back on her, and her reason took a temporary leave of absence. The tip of his tongue curled around her clit, a sweet, slow slide that made her arch her back in reaction. Another stroke, and that sent her right over the edge, her body shivering helplessly as tension peaked, then broke. She almost sobbed in relief, opening her eyes to see his face close to hers, expression intense.

"That's it." His voice was deeper, with an even wider range of subtones to it than usual. "Just like that."  
>Her voice wasn't steady enough to reply, but it wasn't necessary either because he disappeared from her field of view, and another lick had her jerk hard again, pleasant tension gripping her once more as he started lapping at her.<br>Sensation built up again, instant as a flash flood and just as inevitable. His tongue probed at her, teasing, drawing a shuddering moan from her, then snaked into her.  
>She arched her back with a choked scream, but he held her down, hands on her thighs, claws tucked in so their curve rather than their tips rested against her skin. Her breath was reduced to a hard pant as his tongue curled inside her, setting nerve endings afire with pleasure one slow pass after another. Then he hit some sensitive spot deep inside, swirled the tip of his tongue in a lazy circle, and that set her off hard.<br>She had just enough air for a broken moan as pleasure crested, then broke, leaving her clenching around him. He purred, continuing to stroke her as wave over wave of pleasure swept over her, through her, drawing out the moment longer than she'd ever considered possible.

Then he lifted himself up over her, regarding her with both satisfaction and growing need. She half leaned up to lay a hand against his chest, maybe to draw him close, but he was already moving. He gathered her up in a fluid motion, tongue flicking over her collar bone in a fleeting caress, then turned her around, His hands slid over her front, following the curve of her breasts, then her sides, settling on her waist. He unfolded his legs from underneath him and swung them over the edge of the bed, shifted, then lifted her into his lap.  
>She was out of balance for a moment, but his arms were around her, stabilising her. "There. Lean back against me."<br>The curve of his torso was so different from a human's, but leaning against him like that was surprisingly comfortable. A better fit than it should have been, given their differences in built. His mouth was close to her ear, mandibles ghosting over her shoulder, and she could hear as well as feel him purr. And she wanted him, not in the desperate heat of the moment like on Shanxi, not in the mindless need from a few moments before, but in a gentler, yet somehow even stronger urge. He drew his hand down between her legs, nudged her into place, then pushed himself into her in the sudden, immediate way that as she had learned so far was the norm for his species.  
>She gasped at the suddenness of it, his own groan of reaction soft in her ear as they adjusted to each other. Pleasure spread through her lower body like a gentle, glowing warmth, a slow pulsing rhythm as he started to move.<p>

"Need you," she said softly, not quite sure how to make him understand. This wasn't just about now, not just about physical gratification, as satisfying as that might be. Sex was merely one way to bond, the most obvious and maybe most pleasant one, but still just a means to an end, not an end in itself. It went much, much deeper than that, and he needed to understand that. And she didn't quite have the words.

"I'll always be here for you," he replied, just as soft, his hands stroking over her slowly, almost dreamy.  
>Whatever worry she might have had faded. He understood what she meant. It was enough for now. She'd find the right words, over time, to make him really know how much he meant to her.<p>

She reached for him like just as naturally as for a part of herself, lifting her hand back to rest against his fringe, stroking the smooth spines.  
>His purr dropped in pitch, which did strange and very pleasant things to some more primitive part of her brain. Their rhythm was slow, unhurried, because there was no need to rush towards an end that was inevitable anyway. Pleasure rose, not in a sudden surge but a steady, slow flood. She shivered against him again, arching against his hands, the sensation of release not violent as before but almost calm, intense. Pleasure levelled out instead of dropping, then gradually rose again as he increased his pace slightly.<p>

"Again," he growled against her ear, and almost as if responding to a command she arched against him as he angled his hips, his hands roaming over her body. She was lost in the sensation, the feel of him against her and in her. He nuzzled the back of her neck, then suddenly closed his teeth gently, shocking pinpricks of raw pleasure that made her cry out despite herself. That was unexpected, and something her research about turian behaviour hadn't turned up, but despite the fact that she knew that his teeth were sharp, she wasn't worried. She simply trusted him, on a level that was instinctual rather than anything related to reason, and knew that this wasn't any sort of threat, nor a dominance gesture, but something gentle, an invitation to let go.  
>It didn't need words or explanations.<br>With a low moan, she leaned back against him, feeling her muscles relax and melt against him, leaving him complete control, trusting him to take the both of them towards the inevitable conclusion.

She felt him respond to that sound he'd wrung out of her, or maybe it was that move of surrender that made him growl again, felt him shift inside her, friction increasing to a delicious, mind-numbing level, and knew he was close to breaking limit. The knowledge of that was heady, added to the torrent of sensation she already was caught in, and she whimpered again as he pushed his hand down her front, sliding his fingers over sensitised flesh.  
>His thumb circled her clit again, making her writhe against him. His rhythm was becoming faster, almost desperate, his grip on her waist tightening.<br>Each thrust sent additional tiny shocks through her, distinct strands of sensation that suddenly combined into an overwhelming wave that swept through her. She felt herself go almost limp for a time-skipping moment, then arched her back against him as climax sent what was left of her conscious mind spiralling hopelessly beyond control.  
>He wasn't far behind, shuddering through his own release as he continued to hold on to her, a strange, multitonal sound stuck somewhere in his throat that she'd never heard before, then her viewpoint veered as he let himself fall to his side, drawing her down with him.<br>She didn't even tense up, trusting him to keep the both of them unharmed.  
>Distantly, she felt him slip out of her, but his grip on her didn't loosen.<p>

She was content just to lie there and come down again, wait to catch her breath again and for her heart rate to return to normal, feeling him solid and warm at her back.  
>And his teeth were still around the back of her neck. As if reading that thought, he released her, although she thought she could feel the reluctance in that.<br>"Sorry, should have warned you about holding you like that. That was a bit -"

"Don't you dare apologise, for any of that," she interrupted, trying for a stern tone and failing spectacularly. "That was..." Words didn't quite seem to cover it, and she waved her hand vaguely, then just gave up and laughed.

Garrus rumbled in reply, sharing in her amusement. "It's rare to see you at a loss for words."

"I'm not. I'm perfectly coherent," she protested out of pure reflex.

"Of course. I take it you approve of the results of the research I did?" There was a certain smugness in his tone, but she figured he had earned the right to that.

"Quite satisfactory." Her reason was slowly coming online again, and she frowned slightly. "Just out of curiosity, what precisely were your sources for that research? Can't have been what Mordin came up with, if I go by the information material I received."  
>He didn't reply, and that was unusual and sharpened her interest. Judging by the performance he'd just delivered, he'd more than done his research. And she was rather certain that there wasn't a manual on her, of if there was, it was written by Cerberus, and thereby both classified and probably inaccurate.<p>

"Well?"

"A good investigator never compromises his sources," he stated in a virtuous tone that simply had to be faked.

"Not fair," she complained faintly. "I answered you when you asked the same question of me." At his continued lack of reply, she snorted. "I could order you to tell me, you know."

He just gave a growling purr in reply, a sound so low she could practically feel it echoing through her. Maybe it should have felt calming and peaceful, but something in that sound did something to her insides that was distinctly not calming. No, not calming at all, she thought as slow, heavy warmth uncurled somewhere inside her again, a pleasant sensation that held the promise of more. If he meant to distract her from the question, he was succeeding perfectly. Then again, it didn't really matter how he'd come by his knowledge. Or what, or who, might have helped him.

Garrus nuzzled the back of her neck again, then stroked slowly over her hip and down around her thigh. His hand came to rest between her thighs, and at that she made a sound almost like a purr herself, leaning into the touch.  
>Warmth flared up into real heat and turned into renewed desire, not the sharp variant that demanded immediate response but a slower, gentler kind that was was content to be patient.<p>

"Seems to me we're not done yet." he remarked, dead-pan, but there was a eager, joyful undertone to his voice.

She refused to be embarrassed about that. "Maybe a side effect of the cybernetics." she said lazily. "I recover quickly. In all respects, it seems."

With a thoughtful hum, he stroked the textured pad of his thumb slowly over her labia, clearly testing the situation. He seemed quite pleased with the reaction he got from her.  
>"You're right. You recover quickly." He slid his thumb up to graze against her clit, the pressure just right to really catch her interest again. "But so do I."<p>

His statement made her chuckle, and she turned around in his arms to face him. "It would appear to me that we're quite well-matched, then." Maybe it wasn't the cybernetics and upgrades at all, she thought as she stroked a thumb over the blue streak on his cheekplate. Maybe that reaction was just due to the choice of partner.  
>His expression was relaxed, at ease, but she found a slow heat kindling in his eyes that matched her own. With a smile, she reached around his fringe, cradled the back of his head and drew his head in, resting her forehead against his.<br>His purr increased in volume as he lifted a hand to draw his thumb slowly against her jaw.  
>They didn't break contact as she hooked her leg over his hip, and his hand slid down to the small of her back, drawing her close again.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

"So, will you finally tell me where we're headed?" Garrus was padding alongside her as Shepard led the two of them through the winding passages of a district of Kithoi Ward. She smiled. "You once asked me who told me about turian-human relationships, and I promised you that once we made it back to the Citadel, I'd have you meet my sources. So I'm making good on that promise."

Garrus gave an amused rumble. "That is bound to be interesting." He refrained from any further comment as she used her omnitool for a quick look at the district map again, then turned into a small passage.  
>A few twists and turns later, she found what she had been looking for: a small pub tucked into a out-of-the-way corner of a small plaza. There was no sign giving the name of the establishment, and the outside looked just the slightest bit disreputable.<br>She nodded with approval. Perfect.

The interior of the place matched the outside. It was small, the decor definitely not flashy or fashionable, and a rather odd mix of different cultures and species.  
>The customers were the usual mix of Citadel species, mixed with quite a few odd shapes she couldn't quite identify in the booths along the two walls leading to the bar.<br>She scanned the place, then determinedly made her way to a booth on the far side where a dark-faced turian with white markings and a blond human female, both in C-sec uniforms, were seated. They were spotted on approach, and the woman waved a greeting.  
>Shepard grinned as Garrus behind her produced a trilling click that she'd come to associate with extreme surprise.<p>

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"Hey there, Shepard. Glad to see you could make it," the woman said, her voice warm in welcome as Shepard clasped her hand briefly, then slid herself onto a seat opposite of the two. The turian gave her a quick nod, yellow eyes sharp as he took in her appearance and that of her companion.

Garrus' mandibles were still splayed in a almost spooked expression as he took a seat at her side.

"Garrus, meet C-sec captains Fisher and Nisus," Shepard said, not bothering to keep the smile off her face. "Fisher, Nisus, that's Garrus Vakarian. We, uh, talked about him last time."

"Among other things," Fisher replied easily, then raised an enquiring eyebrow at Garrus. "Something you wanted to ask?"

Garrus stared at her, then at Nisus. "We have met before, haven't we?"

There was a sudden, faint tension in the two C-sec officers, barely visible, but Nisus replied in a calm, dismissive tone. "You were with C-sec, too. Maybe our paths crossed."

"No." Shepard said, still wondering whether she'd got it right. "I'd say it was on Shanxi. Twenty-eight years ago."

The C-sec officers traded a quick look, then Fisher laughed, the tension gone as Nisus growled in vague amusement. "So it was you. And it was real."

"And I was right. I told you so." Nisus added with a smug expression that wasn't even disturbed as Fisher elbowed his side none too gently.

"You were. No need to be smug about it, though." she admitted grudgingly, absently rubbing her elbow as he snickered. "I still maintain the opinion that it's insane." She looked thoughtful. "Well, granted, no more insane than other things we've seen, but still..." She gave Shepard a long look. "For the record, last time, I didn't recognise you right away. You never gave your name, or his, so there was no way to be sure."  
>Shepard sighed in relief. "I wasn't sure either. I'm still not sure that I did the right thing there."<p>

"I think you did," Nisus replied calmly. "With the whole situation and with us." His yellow gaze flickered over her, amusement in his eyes. "Your hint with the colony markings helped me remember that there was indeed one individual in my family, a rather distant relation, who had carried markings like these. He was some sort of explorer, and a loner with little regard for proper turian society, always wandering the edges of civilised space, going where he pleased. Frankly, most of my family considered him eccentric, if not outright unstable, and an embarrassment to boot. His name wasn't mentioned often even when I was still on speaking terms with my relatives." He grinned, mandibles flaring to reveal sharp teeth. "He probably met an untimely end somewhere, because he simply disappeared and wasn't heard from again, and I figured he no longer had any need of his identity. So I borrowed it. Incidentally, I seem to have added considerably to the notoriety of his name, because by now I don't think there's any relation of me left who will even talk to me without explicitly being ordered to by a superior officer. I think if he'd known he'd have been greatly amused by that."

"He became his own crazy uncle," Fisher summarised cheerfully. "I think it fits."

Nisus didn't bother reacting to that. "I followed your orders, Spectre. It just took a bit longer than any of us would have thought, and led us into very strange places and situations." He gave her a wry look. "And odd company."

"I suppose I deserved that." Shepard gave him a wry grin, then sobered. "I know that by helping me you both wrecked your careers. And probably your lives."  
>"Don't worry about that." Fisher said, leaning back easily against her partner. "I won't lie and say that it was easy. For some reason where-ever we went and whatever we did, we always found ourselves hip-deep in trouble." She shrugged, grinning. "Seen some things we rather didn't, helped some people out who'd rather not remember they owe us, made some strange alliances on the way. Met some good people, killed a good number of bad ones. You know. You probably know all about how these things tend to just happen, it's the same with you, isn't it?" Her expression was untroubled and at ease. "It worked out fine, eventually. I'd not trade this life for whatever life and career with the Alliance I could have had if I hadn't sent that message."<p>

"Of course not," Nisus commented placidly. "You'd not have made it far in the regular military anyway. Your temper would have gotten the better of you at some point. Even in human military, assaulting superior officers is frowned upon. Even and especially if they are in the wrong. "

Fisher snorted, but refrained from elbowing him again.

"But for what it's worth, I agree with your conclusion." His mandibles twitched into a cheerful grin. "I don't regret what I did, either. Well, maybe I regret not hitting Saren a bit harder, but I can live with that." Absently, he rubbed his knuckles over the scars on the side of his face.

Garrus leaned forward, regarding the two of them. "How the hell did you end up in C-sec? This isn't the sort of job you can just slide your way in with a false identity. You need a perfect service record for that at least, and special training. And political connections, to even be considered."

That made both C-sec officers chuckle. "Let's just say that this is one of the examples of people owing us a favour. Our identities aren't false anymore, as well. Although I'd say that our service records are a bit incomplete." Fisher said with a smirk. "And I think we're qualified for the job. Don't you?"

It wasn't often that Shepard saw Garrus sputtering, so she enjoyed the novelty. Still, she had to come to his rescue, and divert the C-sec officer's attention away from her target. "All right. I want to hear the whole story, this time."

"And I want to hear about your trip through that relay," Fisher countered, then grinned. "And about your other issue, although from where I'm sitting that looks like it's straightened out." She gave Garrus a very obvious once-over that made him twitch his mandibles in a mixture of mild embarrassment and amusement.

"Deal." Shepard laughed. She waved to attract the waiter's attention and with a lot more hand-waving ordered a round of drinks. A quartet of glasses containing liquid of a rather interesting shade of green was placed in front of them by a scruffy-looking salarian. Shepard snagged one for herself, gave it a dubious look, then mentally shrugged and leaned back comfortably.  
>"You first," she demanded of Fisher.<p>

The blond C-sec officer gave a good natured shrug and reached for a glass of her own, taking a sip, apparently undeterred by the drink's colour.

With a sense of contentment, Shepard leaned against Garrus, unconsciously mirroring the other woman's pose.

"Well, so there we were on Shanxi, with that shuttle in the middle of nowhere..."


End file.
